Love and Drama at the Sit-A-Spell
by Predec2
Summary: Brian is persuaded by his son to visit a hokey, country-cooking restaurant. Will he find anything to his liking on the menu? Little angst/mainly fluff. B/J, Gus.
1. Cream with your Coffee?

This story is NOT a WIP. I will be posting a chapter every few days or so until it is done. It's a little bit of angst, but mainly lighter fluff.;)

Hope you enjoy it!

* * *

><p>Story disclaimer: QAF and its characters and the sole property of Cowlip Productions and Showtime. No copyright infringement is intended.<p>

_In this chapter: _Brian is persuaded by his son to visit a hokey, country-cooking restaurant. Will he find anything to his liking on the menu?

_Britin - Early Evening_

Eyes strained from studying the screen on his laptop for way too long, Brian lifted his gaze to peer over at the doorway as he heard a soft shuffling sound, smiling as he recognized its source. "Hey, Sonny Boy. I thought you were keeping Justin company?" He noticed his son wearing his favorite play outfit: a light blue shirt, a pair of dark blue khakis, a chocolate-brown apron tied around his waist and neck, and a "Gus" name tag pinned to his chest. He was carrying a white order pad and had a pencil tucked behind his ear, with a menu sticking out of one of the apron's deep pockets.

"I was. But you didn't come down for dinner, Daddy, and I thought you might be hungry."

Brian grinned as he rolled out from behind his desk, holding out his hands in invitation as Gus came walking closer to sit in his lap, his face so expressive and open. "Well, that was very thoughtful of you."

Gus smiled at the praise. "I told Justin I would come in and take your order." He efficiently pulled his pencil out from behind his ear; Brian chuckled as he watched his son lick the tip of the pencil lead, much like someone else he knew used to do. "Here's the menu," he told his father as he handed it to his father. "So what can I get you to drink, Daddy?" Gus asked, his face solemn and businesslike.

Brian pretended to think for a moment before he decided. "I think I'd like some water with lemon, please." He watched as Gus slowly scribbled something down on the pad before turning to peer back at him. "Do you know what you want to eat, or would you like a few minutes?"

Brian grinned; his son had practiced this role so often in the past that he could probably work for real at his favorite restaurant. Fortunately for him, however, he didn't have to worry about his son running away to find a job there, because there were no _Sit a Spell_ restaurants located in Pennsylvania. He opened the menu to study the items for a few seconds before he closed it again. "No, I know what I want," he told him as Gus nodded, pencil poised over the pad to jot down his order. "I'd like the Low-Carb Steak Dinner with oil and vinegar for the salad dressing. And the steak medium, please."

Gus giggled.

"What?"

"Justin said you would order that one."

Brian smiled. "Oh, he did, did he?"

Gus nodded vigorously as he carefully scrawled his father's order down onto the paper pad.

"I guess he knows me pretty well by now, huh?"

Gus nodded again as Brian grinned. "Yeah." Gus was quiet for a few moments before he asked, "Daddy?"

Brian gazed lovingly into the miniature version of himself, his arms wrapped protectively around his son's small body, as he replied, "Yeah, Buddy?"

"I'm glad Justin came to live with us. Aren't you?"

Brian smiled. "Yeah. Yeah, Sonny Boy, I am, too." Gus smiled back at him as he pecked his son on the cheek. "Well, I'd better let you place my order with our resident chef and get my water, okay?"

Gus nodded as his father gently lowered him to the ground. "Daddy?"

Brian's smile grew wider. "Yeah, Gus?"

"Justin says you're a big tipper. Are you? I need a new train set."

Brian laughed. "That depends on the type of service I get, Sonny Boy. Whenever you wait on me, though, you always do an awesome job, so I think I see a big tip coming up afterward. Now get going, Mr. Waiter. I'm getting really hungry."

Gus nodded eagerly as he turned to hurry out of the room.

"Oh, and Gus?"

His son turned around to study his father. "Yeah, Daddy?"

"After you bring me my meal, would you ask the chef to come and see me afterward so I can tell him what a good cook he is?"

Gus nodded. "Okay, Daddy!" And with a flash, he quickly disappeared, his footsteps echoing down the hall. A few seconds later, he heard his son call out, "Justin! Order up!"

Brian shook his head in amusement and laughed again, his mind drifting back to the dramatic day when he and Justin had first met...

_One year earlier - Pigeon Forge, Tennessee_

Brian sighed, wiping his brow. For the beginning of June, it was stifling under the bright noon sun; the high dew point made him want to return to his hotel room with his Energizer Bunny of a son and slip into the large pool for the rest of the day. But his joint custody days spent with his son were way too precious for him not to allow Gus to do whatever he wanted to do when they were together. True, perhaps it meant spoiling him way too much, but to his credit his five-year-old son had remained relatively happy even with the simplest of things, such as what they were about to do now: eat lunch at the newest restaurant in town - _The Sit a Spell_.

He rolled his eyes at the hokey name; a long row of rocking chairs were perched outside on the wide, front porch, currently filled with patrons old enough to be his parents - or more like his grandparents - waiting for their names to be called. An antique wringer washer sat next to the door, a couple of red-and-white checkered, cloth napkins slung over the top. A wheelbarrow, old and green with flecks of rust and filled with brightly colored petunias, was situated on the opposite side.

A greeter, wearing a ruffled, white dress sprinkled with green polka dots that looked like it had been previously used in a square dance, smiled at them in greeting as Gus tugged his father urgently toward the door.

"Wouldn't you rather go play _Hillbilly Putt Putt Golf_, instead, Gus? There's a hot dog stand right next door," he added hopefully as he pointed across the street to the Arcade. But to his chagrin, his son shook his head.

"No, Daddy! I want to eat here! Can we...please?"

_No fair looking at me like that, Sonny Boy_, Brian lamented as he agreed with a reluctant nod, watching his son's eyes light up in delight. Politely acknowledging the greeter, he held the door open as he and his son stepped inside, immediately encountering a large gift shop brimming with all sorts of items: clothing, watches, garden items, country DVDs and CDs, candles, cookbooks, and - much to his consternation - all kinds of old-fashioned candies and child's toys. It was like his son's dream come true - only on steroids.

"Gus!" he shouted as his son broke free from him and scampered over to the toys, immediately latching onto a large, metal dump truck someone had left on the floor. Motor sounds and a 'beep, beep, beep' flew out of his son's mouth as he proceeded to back the truck up, right into a display of wind chimes. "Oh, no," he groaned, as the entire display came crashing down next to his son with a cacophony of clanging noises. The previously bustling gift shop came to a dead stop as everyone ceased talking and an eerie quiet permeated the room as they turned to stare over at who had caused the commotion.

Brian rushed over to his son to make sure he was all right, along with the manager. "Gus! Are you hurt?"

Gus shook his head, right before he began to whimper in fright and embarrassment.

Brian's heart broke as he pulled his son to his feet and lifted him up to hold him in his arms protectively; his son's sniffles muffled somewhat as Gus buried his head in his chest. "It's okay," he told him soothingly, feeling his son's tears wetting the expensive shirt he was wearing. "It was just an accident," he murmured tenderly as he glanced over at the middle-aged manager. "I'll pay for anything that he broke," he assured the other man.

To his credit, though, the manager shook his head. "It should be fine," he reassured him. "They're mainly made out of wood and metal, so I don't think he broke anything." He smiled. "I have a rambunctious grandson about his age, so I know how it is." He motioned with his hands for a couple of employees to come over as they began to pick up the metal display stand to start rehanging the chimes back up.

"Thank you," Brian told him gratefully as he stroked his son's head. "It's okay," he repeated as Gus slowly lifted his tear-stained face to look at him to make sure. He smiled at him in confirmation, accepting a Kleenex from one of the waitresses to gently dry his son's face. "Let's go eat, okay? I'll even let you pick out a dessert - as long as you don't tell Mommy. It will be our little secret," he added conspiratorially with a wink. To his relief, his son smiled back at him and shyly nodded.

"That's my boy," he told him as he finally lowered his son to the ground and held his hand as they walked toward the hostess station located directly in front of the dining room.

A woman dressed in a similar outfit as the other woman - except for the red color - smiled at them and inquired, "How many in your party?"

Brian glanced down at son. "Gus? Would you tell her how many of us are going to be eating?"

"Daddy," Gus chided his father in a 'duh' sort of tone, the previous, unpleasant episode sufficiently forgotten. "There're only two of us."

Brian chuckled, relieved his son was back to his normal self as he held up two fingers to verify Gus's count.

The hostess nodded. "Well, right this way, then, gentlemen," she instructed father and son as she grabbed a couple of menus and a coloring activity page and box of crayons before leading them into the dining room. Brian was pleased when she steered them over to a booth near the window and made a point of asking Gus if the choice was acceptable to him as if he was the leader in their group. Gus giggled and nodded his approval as the two of them took a seat opposite each other.

"Your server will be right over," she told them as Brian nodded. He opened up his menu and winced at all the high-calorie, fried, country-style foods. Crispy, buttermilk chicken. Chicken and dumplings. Fried cod sandwiches. Meat loaf dripping with tomato sauce. Sugar cured ham. He grimaced; at least he noticed a few grilled entrees listed, along with some side dishes that were fairly healthy.

"See anything you like, Gus?" he asked his son, noticing him studying the side of the coloring page that listed the items he could order.

Gus nodded. "They have macaroni and cheese, Daddy!" he exclaimed in delight. His son seemed to have developed a fetish for the high-calorie comfort food lately. "And I want the chicken fingers."

"Can I see?" Brian asked, reaching over to take the page from his son, scowling at the choice of blatantly high-calorie items. He sighed in resignation as his son eyed him quietly, knowing he would just have to grin and bear it this time; there were precious few healthy items on the kid's menu, just as he suspected. "Okay; mac and cheese and chicken fingers. Barbecue sauce?" Gus nodded. "And you get one other side item," he told him as he studied the sparse menu, "either steak fries or fruit. How about some cantaloupe and pineapple?"

Gus wrinkled his nose up in distaste. "No, Daddy, I want fries."

"Gus...You need to try and eat one thing at least from the menu that's healthy. You _like_ fruit." One look at the disappointed look on his child's face, however, and Brian knew he was fighting a losing battle. "Okay, okay," he acquiesced. "But after today, we are going to start eating healthier the rest of the time we're here on vacation, deal?" He handed the menu page back to his son.

Gus nodded. "Do I still get dessert, Daddy?" was the hopeful question.

Brian smiled. "Yes, Buddy, you still get dessert," he assured him as Gus's eyes lit up. "But only for tonight. Tomorrow we are going to cut out all this junk food and eat REAL food. Will you at least order 1% milk to drink? Chocolate milk?" To his relief, Gus nodded in agreement. "Good."

"What are _you _getting, Daddy?" Gus asked curiously as he picked out a red crayon from the box on the booth's table and began to carefully color a picture of a rooster on the other side of the activity page.

Brian picked up his menu and intently studied the wide choice of items, noting they all included way too much food; he could easily feed an entire army just from one entree. "Good question," he muttered in disgust, clearing his throat. "Let me look at it a little more," he decided as he heard the server placing what sounded like glasses of water down onto the booth's table.

"Hi, I'm Justin, and I'll be your server this afternoon," a smooth, rich voice stated. "Are you ready to order?"

Brian lifted his eyes to peer up then at their server, and his heart stopped in his throat at the sight before him, unexpected but oh, so amazing: there, standing a couple of feet away from him, was the most incredibly beautiful young man he had ever seen: blond, slightly rebellious hair that fell softly to the man's shoulders, a strong, muscular jaw, long, elegant-looking fingers, and a slender build that suited him perfectly. And those eyes; the blue, long-sleeved shirt he was wearing accentuated the light blue of his eyes kissed by lush eyelashes, and the brown apron that was tied around his chest molded itself expertly around his upper body. As their eyes met, the blond flushed and averted his eyes toward Gus, an attractive, pink tint coloring his cheeks, and Brian's gaydar pinged strongly in reaction. _Fuck, this man is so mouth-watering hot, _he couldn't help thinking. His mouth hung open in admiration and he practically began to salivate as the man spoke again. He glanced at the plastic name plate on the man's chest. _Justin_...Hmm...

"Hi, there!" the young man exclaimed to Gus with a smile so amazing Brian's eyes widened in reaction. "What's your name?"

Gus, normally one to be shy around strangers, oddly seemed quite comfortable with this man as he answered promptly, "Gus."

The blond smiled again with a nod. "Gus. I _like_ that name." Gus beamed at the attention as the server asked, "Have you decided what you want?"

Gus nodded. "Uh, huh. I want the chicken fingers, fries, mac'roni and cheese. And milk."

Justin grinned. "I bet you're a chocolate man, right? No white milk for _you_." Gus nodded vigorously, pleased that Justin seemed to know him so well. "Got it," he told him as at last he turned to peer over at his other guest, finding his heart racing at the almost predatory look in the other man's eyes. Justin had been propositioned more than enough in the past by both male as well as female guests to know what that look meant, and this man practically oozed sex out of every pore on his body. He had to be the most gorgeous-looking male specimen he had ever laid eyes upon. Taking a deep breath to compose himself, he smiled politely at him, opening his mouth to ask him for his drink order and hoping he wouldn't hear any tremor in his voice as he spoke. But the other man prevented him by speaking initially by addressing him first.

"I happen to like both white _and _chocolate milk, by the way," Brian told him with a smirk, watching the server blush over the tone of his voice.

Justin's pulse raced incredibly fast; so fast that he felt sure the other man could see his heart thumping furiously underneath his apron as he replied, "You want me to bring you some milk, too?"

Brian grinned evilly. "Not right now. I might have a craving for some cream later, though...with my coffee, I mean."

Justin's face turned ever redder as he swallowed hard. "Oh." _Good one there, Justin! _He silently berated himself. He cleared his throat. "Well, what can I get you, then?" An idea loomed in his head as he smirked back at his guest then as the other man opened up HIS mouth to reply. "On the menu, I mean."

_Touche. _Brian grinned. "Well, I'll take the grilled cod for now, with a fruit cup and the seasonal vegetables. And water with lemon. Is it bottled?"

"No," Justin replied with a chuckle. "They drink it straight up down here in the Great Smokies," he told him with a grin and a cowboy twang as the other man scowled in response. "Would you like something else to drink, instead?"

"No," Brian muttered in distaste. "But keep that cream handy for my coffee later, okay?" He added, his sense of humor returning. He was having way too much fun at the other man's expense, and he loved watching the myriad of emotions flickering across the beautiful face. Sure enough, the other man blushed again in reaction as he scribbled down his order.

"I'll be right back with your drinks, then," he told them as he turned to leave, feeling the man's eyes upon him the entire time.

Brian stared intently at their server as Justin turned to go, his eyes drinking in the perfectly rounded ass that had been hiding from his scrutiny earlier. _Holy shit, _he thought, thinking what it would be like to partake in a little extracurricular activity with that particular part of the man's anatomy. _Puts a whole new spin on 'Moonshine', _he thought as he openly admired his backside.

"Daddy?"

Brian reluctantly turned his gaze back to his son and smiled. "Yeah, Sonny Boy?"

"That man is nice. I like him."

Brian grinned as he glanced over to see their server disappearing into the open door of the kitchen. "Yeah, Buddy. Me, too. _Real_ nice."


	2. White Knight Wearing an Apron & a Smile

_Justin comes to the rescue in an unexpected way. Brian decides he wants to take out more than just the food. _

Justin walked into the kitchen and immediately slumped against the side wall and briefly closed his eyes, letting out a deep breath.

"What's wrong?"

He opened his eyes back up to see his best friend Daphne eyeing him with concern, a square, black, plastic tray clutched in her hands full of orders. "Nothing."

"Bullshit," she replied instantly. "Is someone giving you a hard time?"

Justin snorted. "Well, 'hard' is certainly the operative word." Daphne frowned. "Take a look at the guy sitting at Table #6 with the little boy."

Daphne placed the food down temporarily under the warming lamp and did as Justin instructed, trying to look nonchalant as she peered around the door frame. Fortunately, she picked the perfect time to take a peek, because Brian chose that exact moment to unravel his son's napkin and hand it to Gus to place it in his lap. "Oh, my _God_!" she exclaimed with a shriek as Justin made a frantic attempt to shush her with his hands. "He's hot!" She grinned, but then furrowed her brow as she thought of something. "But he has that little boy with him. You still think he's, you know...?"

"Will you keep it down?" Justin beseeched, his eyes wide with alarm. Down here in conservative, Southern Baptist territory, a gay lifestyle was definitely looked down upon, and even if he wasn't deliberately trying to hide his sexual orientation, he didn't think it was wise to flaunt it, either. He needed the job he had to not only keep a roof over his and Daphne's heads (they shared an apartment to keep their expenses in line), but he also desperately needed it to help save up money to attend art school. While being on his feet all day made his legs cramp up and ache at night sometimes, it still beat the lousy (or nonexistent) tips he received when he had been working in Gatlinburg before at one of the schmaltzy, tacky tourist shops. "Yes, I do," he told her. He grinned. "You should have seen the way he looked at me earlier. You would have thought _I _was on the menu."

Daphne giggled as she retrieved some more food from under the heat lamp. "Well, I have to deliver this food to Table 10," she told him. "I'll take the long way, though. I want to get a better look at him."

Justin rolled his eyes as she grinned impishly back at him. "Just don't make it obvious, okay?" he begged her as he admitted, "He...he makes me nervous."

She smirked. "I'll _bet_ he does...But don't worry; I'll play it cool. Now be a good boy and go get their drinks."

Justin's eyes widened. "Shit, I almost forgot! Thanks." Hurrying over to the drink station, he quickly dug the metal scoop into the ice bin and placed the cubes into a plastic glass before filling it with water. Pouring some chocolate milk into a smaller glass and grabbing a small dish of lemons, he took a deep breath to steel himself before heading back over to the handsome man's table. As he approached them from the little boy's side, he had to smile as he looked over the little boy's shoulder and noticed him using a crayon to draw a facsimile of what appeared to be a train.

He placed the two glasses down onto the table as he asked Gus, "You like trains?"

Gus nodded vigorously. "I have one at home."

His discomfort temporarily forgotten, Justin smiled. "A toy train?"

"Uh, huh. With a track and tunnels and trees and people! Daddy bought it for me."

"Sounds great. We have a real train here that you can ride."

Gus's eyes grew big as saucers. "You do? Do you own it?"

Justin laughed and flashed him a big smile; an action that caused Brian to be astounded by its intensity. "No, it doesn't belong to me. But it's about a mile down the road. It's an old-fashioned steam engine train, and you can ride in the main car or the caboose." He looked over at Brian to explain, "It doesn't travel very fast, and only goes about a few miles out and back. But all the kids seem to love it."

"Big kids, too?" Brian asked, amused, noticing the animated look in Justin's eyes.

Justin blushed. "I like to ride it," he admitted sheepishly, "because the scenery is always changing. And it goes slow enough that I can draw as I go."

"Draw?"

Justin nodded. "I like to sketch what I see." He turned to Gus to tell him, "You might even see a bear or two while you're out there. I've seen them a lot of times when I ride."

Gus's mouth gaped open in astonished delight. "Bears? Daddy, we have to ride it! Please?" His big, brown eyes peered longingly at Brian.

Brian sighed. There was no way he could say no to THAT. "Okay, Sonny Boy." Gus clapped his hands as a delighted smile broke out on his face. "But it will have to be tomorrow. It's getting too late for that today."

"Yay! Okay, Daddy! Can I wear my hat and scarf when we go?"

Justin looked over at Brian, a question in his eyes, as Brian explained, "He has an engineer's hat and a blue-and-white checkered scarf he takes with him wherever he goes." Justin nodded with a smile as Brian told his son, "You sure can, Sonny Boy. Now drink some of your milk, okay?" Gus nodded as he took hold of the glass with both hands and proceeded to take a big gulp.

Justin smiled as someone nearby signaled for his attention. "I'll have your orders out shortly," he told them as he hurried away to take care of another customer.

* * *

><p><em>Twenty Minutes Later...<em>

Justin had managed to deliver the handsome man's food to his table a few minutes ago, along with the little boy's, maintaining an admirable degree of composure, and was now busying himself with taking care of customers at his other assigned tables nearby. He couldn't help glancing over occasionally in their direction, however, impressed with how attentive the man seemed to be toward his child. He smiled when the little boy held a steak fry out to his father, and the man shook his head at first to tell him no, but then reluctantly opened up his mouth to allow Gus to push the ketchup-laden end into his mouth. He grinned when he heard the little boy giggle in response as he plopped the other end into his mouth and ate it.

He was leaning over a nearby table a few minutes later, cleaning it off with a rag, when he glanced once more over at the little boy and blanched; the child had both hands up to his neck and was clearly in some type of distress.

"Gus?" he heard the man say. "Gus, what is it? What's wrong?" The child tried to answer, but clearly couldn't. Justin suspected immediately what was happening as he shouted to Daphne, who was heading to the kitchen, "Call 911!" and rushed over to their table.

"What's wrong with him?" Brian shouted in a panic as Justin hurried over to the little boy and pulled him out of his chair.

"I think he's choking on something," Justin told him as Brian pushed back so quickly from his seat the chair fell back and crashed to the floor. By now, the room had grown completely silent as Justin got into position behind the child and locked his hands together around his waist, right under his breastbone.

"Gus, can you say something? Can you talk?" Justin asked. The child opened his mouth in reaction, but nothing came out. His eyes, however, immediately broadcast the fear he was currently experiencing as he looked over at his father in desperation.

Brian's face turned white as he stood there, frozen and uncertain what to do. "Gus!" he cried out in alarm as Justin pulled Gus tightly against his body and thrust upward with his hands: one, two, three times. On the third effort, a large piece of a chicken finger flew out of the little boy's mouth, landing on top of the table, as Gus began to cough and gasp for air.

"Breathe, Gus, breathe," Justin told him calmly as he walked around to stare up at him, slowly rubbing the boy's back reassuringly. Brian rushed over and knelt in front of him to grasp him by the arms to examine him. Justin stood up and stepped back slightly as the manager, Don Kennedy, rushed over to them.

"Is he okay?" he asked with concern. "The paramedics are on their way."

"I think so," Justin told him, noticing Gus coughing now and his breathing evening out as Brian continued to study his son intently, the worry clearly etched in his eyes. "But it wouldn't hurt to have him checked out. He almost choked on a piece of a chicken nugget, but it's out of his windpipe now."

"Are you sure he's okay?" Brian whispered, his hands gripping his son's shoulders as he continued to check for signs of trouble.

Justin nodded with a reassuring smile. "Well, I'm not an expert. But I think he'll be fine."

Brian nodded in relief. "Gus, are you okay? You scared me to death," Brian admitted to his son. Gus sniffled and coughed again, still breathing a little heavily, before he finally nodded. Brian pulled him into an embrace then, his body trembling over the thought of how close he could have come to losing the boy he dearly loved.

The room slowly reverted back to normal - and his world righted again - as Brian loosened his hold slightly on his son. "Want to sit down, Gus?" he asked as the little boy nodded.

"Justin, maybe you should get him some water to drink," the manager suggested as Justin nodded and hurried away to comply.

Returning a minute later, Justin noticed the boy's color was much better. "Feeling better now?" he asked softly; the boy's father was sitting next to him as if he were afraid something else would happen, slowly rubbing circles on his back like Justin had been doing earlier. His own meal had been totally forgotten in light of what had happened.

Gus nodded as Justin placed a glass of water with no ice down in front of him. "I brought you one of the silly straws," he told him. "Take a couple of sips, okay? Don't gulp too much down at once." He was pleased to see that Gus complied, taking a couple of tentative sips and apparently seeming none the worse for wear now. "Good," he told him with a smile as his and Brian's eyes locked.

"I...want to...Thank you," Brian told him simply, at a loss almost for the right words. "I think you saved his life. I...I was so fucking scared," he admitted. "I just froze."

"It's understandable," Justin told him, a little embarrassed. "But he should be fine now," he assured him.

Brian nodded, feeling more reassured. "Careful, Sonny Boy," he cautioned his child as Gus reached to snag another steak fry. "Should he be eating?" he asked Justin as he watched Gus reach for the food, seemingly unaffected by what had happened.

Justin smiled with a nod. "Just make sure he takes SMALL bites."

Brian shuddered as he watched his son carefully. "Don't worry," he told him tersely. "You can count on it."

* * *

><p>Fifteen minutes later, the paramedics had come and gone, assuring Brian that his son was going to be fine and did not need further medical attention, and Justin reappeared soon afterward at their table, noticing that while the boy's plate was relatively empty, the father's was not. He frowned. "Was there something wrong with your meal?" he asked Brian politely.<p>

Brian shook his head as he watched Gus coloring some more on his disposable placemat. "No, it was fine," he told him. "I just didn't have much of an appetite after; well, you know..."

Justin nodded. "Yeah, that's understandable." Brian nodded, his eyes studying Justin so intensely that the blond had to avert his eyes momentarily. "Then...I can't get you anything else?"

_Yeah...Your phone number_, Brian almost said aloud, wondering how it would feel to be ramming into the man's perky, not-so-little ass that he had ogled earlier. But as he glanced over at his son now busily coloring his menu page, he knew there was no way he could entertain such a fantasy. His son had to come first, especially after what had happened earlier. So with some disappointment, he shook his head and replied, "No, thanks. Just the check."

"No coffee with cream?" Justin pressed, both of them knowing exactly what he was implying.

Brian smiled wistfully at him. "No, not this time. Maybe some other time."

Justin nodded his head.

"Oh, and Justin?"

"Yeah?"

"For the record, I take my coffee black."

Justin smiled. "I'll keep that in mind if you ever come back for another meal," he responded with a smile of his own. He flipped open his order pad to locate their bill before ripping it from the paper and placing it down next to Brian's plate. "Before you go..."

Brian lifted an eyebrow to peer up at him, not sure what he was expecting. But he found that he didn't want to say goodbye just yet to this man, either. "Yes?" Brian watched as Justin reached inside his apron pocket and produced a long, wood, cylindrically shaped object that had holes in the top of it; a thin cord was attached to one end.

"Uh...I picked this up for Gus in the gift shop," he told him, as the little boy looked up curiously. Justin turned to smile at Gus as he handed him the wooden, rectangular-shaped object. "It's a whistle that sounds like a train," he told him with a smile. "Go ahead; give it a try," he encouraged him.

Gus's eyes lit up with excitement as he put the flat end of the whistle up to his lips and blew vigorously into the instrument, making a loud, low whistle burst forth that sounded just like a locomotive's. His face broke out into a delighted smile as he gave it another toot before Brian reached over to gently pull it away from his lips, all of the nearby patrons peering over at them in surprise.

"I think that's enough for now, Sonny Boy," Brian told his son with a chuckle. "I'm glad you're feeling so good, but we've caused enough melodrama here today already."

"Daddy, what's melon'rama?" Gus asked, his face scrunched up with confusion.

The two men exchanged an amused look between them as Brian explained, "It's another name for little boys who somehow seem to generate excitement wherever they go - like _you_."

"Oh. That's a good thing, then, isn't it?" Gus asked, his face scrunched up thoughtfully.

Brian grinned as he reached in his pocket for his wallet to locate his credit card. "Sonny Boy, with you _everything _is good," he assured him tenderly. His smile slowly dissolved as he glanced over at Justin. "Well...I guess we'll be going now," he told him as he stood up, check and credit card in hand. "How much do I owe you for the whistle?" He smirked. "Although...maybe you should pay ME, instead, considering how someone will be playing with that whistle nonstop, no doubt, and driving me nuts until his bedtime tonight."

Justin grinned as he shook his head. "You don't owe me anything; it was a gift."

"That's where you're wrong," he told Justin solemnly as he walked over to place his hand on his son's shoulder; his _very much alive_ son's shoulder. "I owe you a great deal after what you did."

Justin blushed, embarrassed. "I did what anyone would have done in my position," he insisted. "I was just in the right place at the right time."

"Maybe." Brian opened his wallet and pulled out a five $20 bills, holding them out toward the other man. "But what you did is priceless to me, just like my son. Take this."

Justin shook his head in shock. "No...No, I couldn't. That's way too much."

One brow lifted in question, Brian asked, "What, you're independently wealthy, then, and just working at this dive to learn more about the local yokels?"

Justin grinned. "Something like that." He smiled down at Gus. "Just knowing he's okay is good enough for me. Keep your money, and use it to take him on the train ride tomorrow."

"Okay...But only if you come with us," Brian blurted out before he could stop himself. Now that it was out in the open, though, it somehow seemed right. "We could use a tour guide to escort us around," he offered by way of explanation, although that was not his motive.

"What?" Justin replied in shock, not sure he had heard him right. He turned his head as he heard a nearby male patron calling for his attention. "Look," he began regretfully. "I have to go..."

"Fine. Then we'll see you at the train station tomorrow at 10. You're not working then, are you?" Brian hoped that since he was here for the lunch shift that maybe he started later in the day.

"Well...no..."

Brian smiled, pleased, as he grasped his son's hand. "Well, then you have no excuse. You wouldn't want to disappoint my son, would you? Would you like for Justin to come with us, Sonny Boy?"

Gus nodded his head vigorously.

Justin huffed, knowing full well what this man was doing. He had to admit, though, he found it flattering in a way, even if he WAS using his son as blackmail. He sighed. "I have to work the dinner shift tomorrow...but I guess I would have enough time," he finally admitted.

Brian smiled. "Good. Where shall we meet you? Give me your address. I'll pick you up."

"Uh, no, that's not necessary," Justin hedged, somehow feeling just a bit intimidated by this forceful man. "I'll meet you there about 9:45." He was too embarrassed to admit he would have to take the bus there after walking about a mile from his and Daphne's apartment.

"It's no bother." Brian insisted.

Justin shook his head. "No, it's fine," he answered, not realizing Daphne was nearby wiping down a table and hearing every word. She couldn't prevent the grin that appeared on her face as she overheard the handsome man in essence asking her friend out on a date. "I'll just meet you there."

Brian studied him, wanting to know more about this young man. He certainly didn't appear to be an easy conquest. He actually liked that, oddly enough. He nodded finally. "Okay. Promise, though."

"_Pinkie_ promise," Gus added solemnly. "That way you can't back out."

Justin laughed as Brian nodded in agreement, holding his right pinkie finger out toward the blond expectantly. Justin smiled amicably as he crooked his pinkie finger around the other man's and pulled slightly, his eyes widening over how such a simple type of contact made his heart race. How was that possible? He quickly freed his finger as his and Brian's eyes locked, seeing much the same surprised reaction on the other man's face. "I...I pinkie promise," he whispered as Gus nodded in satisfaction. He cleared his throat. "So...I'll see you tomorrow, then." He suddenly realized something as they turned to leave.

"Wait!"

Brian lifted an eyebrow in question, hoping his little blond fantasy wasn't yet going to back out.

"I don't even know your name," Justin explained sheepishly. "And I need to give you the address where we need to meet."

"Well, I guess "God" is a little too formal after everything we've been through," he replied, rolling his tongue into his cheek as Justin snorted. He smiled. "So you can just call me Brian."

Justin nodded. _ Brian_. He thought that name suited him. Well, a lot of _other_ names did, too..._Stud. Hot. Gorgeous. King_. But yes, that seemed to fit him, too. "Here's the address," he told him, as he tore off a page from his order pad and hurriedly jotted down where Brian needed to go tomorrow morning. "I'll meet you at the front gate." He had to keep from smiling as he thought about what the man's reaction would be when he found out where it was located, but he suspected by then it would be too late for him to back out...

Brian nodded as he reached over to take the paper, his hand lingering just a little too longer than necessary as it brushed against Justin's. He smirked over the blond's reaction to his touch before finally letting go to grasp his son's hand. "Let's go, Sonny Boy," he told Gus.

"Don't forget, Justin!" Gus called out as he and his father turned around and headed toward the cashier station. Brian turned his head to stare over at him for just a moment before they were lost in the lunch-time crowd.

Justin sighed as he turned back to his duties, jumping as Daphne grabbed his arm from behind. "Break time!" she chirped as she yelled over to their manager to let him know they needed their tables covered. Two minutes later, they were sitting outside near the back door at the employees' picnic tables. "Okay, out with it."

"Huh?"

"You're going on a date with that man?"

Justin peeled off a sliver of curled up, painted wood from the weathered table as he replied, "How did you know that? And it's not a date; his son is going to be there, too, you know."

"Doesn't matter. Oh, and I overheard you when I was cleaning off one of my tables. I got a better look at him, too. He is SO _sexy!_ What are you going to wear?"

Justin rolled his eyes. "It's a train ride, Daphne; not dinner at some five-star restaurant. We're in the tourist mecca of the world, remember? Here, cutoff jeans and a polo shirt are considered evening wear. What do you _think _I'm going to wear? I'll wear what I normally wear when I'm riding the train."

Daphne looked at him aghast. "Are you kidding me? Did you see what that man was wearing? Even his kid had on designer duds! You'll have to do better than that if you want to get laid, Justin."

Justin barked out a laugh, his face growing hot. "Who says that's what I want?" he protested. "And even if I did, just where do you think that would happen on a train - in the dining car? And as you may recall, there is a kid involved here, too. You saw how attentive he was to him during lunch; there's no way, especially after his son almost choked to death, that he's going to leave his side, anyway." He silently had to confess that he had been daydreaming about that very thing, though. How it would feel to be touched, kissed, and possessed by such a man? _Shit._

"I don't mean on the train, you idiot!" Daphne scolded him as he turned his attention back to her. "I mean later, after you get off; you can go out to eat or...better yet, go back to HIS place. Then you can _really g_et off." She winked at him and smiled, then, a twinkle in her eye.

"Daphne...!" Justin exclaimed, rolling his eyes in exasperation, not especially liking where this conversation was heading. "I have to work later, remember?"

She smirked. "If I have to, I'll work your shift. I feel it's my civic duty."

Justin snorted. "You really ARE trying to get me laid, aren't you?" He knew Daphne would have to work a double shift in order to work for him tomorrow.

"How long has it been?" she asked him pointedly, her arms crossed over her chest.

"I don't know," Justin grumbled awkwardly. "It's not like I've been marking it off on the calendar."

"Well, you should be," she told him pointedly. "But if would be easier if you had a _monthly_ calendar." She shook her head. "You work way too hard, Justin. You know what they say about all work and no play. You need to loosen up. And I can't think of a better guy to loosen you up than this one. You're the one who went out of your way to show him to me," she pointed out, one brow quirked upward. "And you saved his son's life! He's going to want to express his appreciation somehow."

"He already thanked me," Justin protested. He sighed. "Okay, okay...the thought did cross my mind," he admitted as Daphne grinned. He had to return her grin with one of his own as he added, "But I don't really know anything about him. I mean, I'm pretty sure he's gay...but he has that little boy."

"Well, little boys go to bed early - and if you play your cards right, the big boys can, too. But first we have to do something about your clothes."

"Daphne, you just don't quit, do you?"

She grinned again. "There's still hope for you, Justin. Even though you dress like a refuge."

"You know I can't afford new clothes!" he protested. Daphne, of all people, knew all too well his financial plight, and just why he had to work as much as he did. He didn't like it, but if he ever hoped to attain his dream of an art career, he had to find a way to afford it first. That did not leave much time for pursing more pleasurable matters. But perhaps she was right; he _did_ need a break, even if it was only for a brief moment of time while this man and his boy were here. Because he knew without a doubt that it was only temporary; almost everyone who passed through here was a tourist, and from the looks of the guy, there was certainly no way he was employed here. Besides, he didn't know anything about him; for all HE knew, he could be married and just on the hunt while his wife was none the wiser. It wouldn't be the first time someone who was gay tried to disguise his true sexuality. Somehow, though, this man appeared far too confident to be the type of person who hid from anything.

"Justin, are you even listening to me?"

Justin blinked. Had Daphne been talking to him? "What did you say?"

Daphne shook her head. "I said...Let's stop at that consignment store down the street. They usually have some trendy clothes in your size."

Justin smiled. "You mean in between the _See Rock City _and the _Fanny Farkle _tee-shirts?" he asked, referring to one of the local theater productions created exclusively for the hordes of tourists that transcended upon the area on a yearly basis like a hive of bees. While they all tended to blend in at some point into one, big, glob, he had to admit it paid his expenses.

Daphne laughed. "Yeah...We'll avoid the clearance section."

"I don't know, Daph...it's just a train ride."

"A train ride that could develop into _another _sort of ride, if you handle things correctly."

Justin's face reddened at the thought of just what sort of 'ride' he had been fantasizing about. He sighed. What did he have to lose, except another boring night of a movie rental and popcorn? "Okay, okay," he finally agreed. "I guess it wouldn't hurt to see what they have."

"That's the spirit!" she exclaimed with a smile. She glanced down at her watch; it was one of the quirky things Justin loved about his long-time friend. She was probably one of the few human beings left on earth - at least their age - that actually liked to wear a watch to tell time, rather than referring to her cellphone. She groaned. "Only four more hours to go." She stood up, stretching backward to loosen her muscles. Sighing, she held her hand out to her friend. "Come on. Time to go serve up more hash to the opera patrons inside."

Justin chuckled as he accepted her hand. He impulsively kissed his friend on the cheek as she pulled back, a little surprised.

"What was THAT for?" she asked curiously as he let go of her hand.

Justin smiled. "Just for being you," he told her as she nodded, pleased. Pulling his apron back over his head and tying it behind his back, he added, "After you," as the two friends reentered the restaurant.

Chapter End Notes:

_Thank you for all the comments on the first chapter, and for reading! I hope you continue to enjoy it. I will post another chapter in a couple of days.;)_


	3. Train Ride and a Kiss

_Brian finds himself at an unlikely spot for a 'date.' Does it go as he hopes? _

_Next Morning - Justin & Daphne's Apartment_

Daphne sighed. "Tell me again what drug we were on when we decided to take _this _place?" she groused as she called out to her friend. The entire apartment - actually the top floor of a chalet duplex situated in the mountains above Pigeon Forge - was completely furnished with chunky, knobby pine furniture. Of course, the fact that it had come completely furnished at the time they rented it was a definite perk. It certainly didn't achieve points for tasteful decorating, though, and the mock, white bearskin, oval rug in the center of their living area didn't help any, either.

"You picked it out, remember?" Justin called back to her from the partially-open bedroom door. He had graciously allowed Daphne to have the bedroom he was currently using to change in, deciding that as long as he had the living room futon he was satisfied just to have a fairly decent roof over his head. He opened the door wider and walked out as he added, "Just like you picked _this _out."

Daphne's eyes grew wide with delight as she studied her friend's appearance. She had always thought Justin was hot - even though they had never gone past the 'friends' stage, obviously - but as he stood there in the vintage clothes she had picked out for him earlier, she had to admit she had outdone herself. "Oh, my God!" she squealed as Justin winced over the volume of her voice. "You look so _amazing_ in that outfit! He's not going to be able to keep his hands off you_!" _

Justin was wearing a tight pair of washed out Levi's, a vintage, steel gray, 3/4 length, v-neck t-shirt with an abstract sort of design on it, and a pair of black loafers. The outfit seemed perfectly made for him, accentuating the curvature of his ass and his slender build. "Daphne..." he replied, embarrassed as she grinned back at him like a fool. "He has a son, remember?"

"I don't care! Remember, I told you! All little boys have an early bedtime. You just need to wait for the right opportunity." She smiled as her eyes swept up and down his body appreciatively. "That shirt was definitely the right color," she decided, having convinced Justin last night at the store that the green one made his skin look too pale. "That one really makes your eyes pop." She nodded. "You look great, Justin."

He sighed as he walked over and sat down next to her on the couch. "Daphne, our 'date,' as you insist on calling it, is for the 10:00 _morning _departure. That's a far cry from any child's bedtime."

"Oh," she replied, disappointed to realize her plan wasn't going to work. She cheered up, however, as she added confidently, "Well, it won't be your _last _date with him, I'm sure of it."

"Oh, you are, are you?" Justin responded in amusement. "Well, unless he has short-term memory, that means I'd need _another_ outfit to wear. Where do you think I would get the money for _that_?" He shook his head and sighed. "Maybe it's just as well..." He paused. "Ow! What was that for?"

"Stop talking like you're old and gray! Sheesh! You will FIND a way, Justin. Not ALL your clothes are ready for the burn heap, you know."

"Thanks," Justin replied dryly as Daphne grinned impishly back at him. He glanced over at the clock above the kitchen sink, his heart beginning to race as he realized it was almost time to meet Brian and Gus. "I'd better get going," he told her, "or I'll wind up being late. I don't think that would make a good impression on him." Somehow this man reminded him of someone who needed to be in control of everything, although he seemed way out of his element yesterday when he son began to choke on his food. He had seen the stricken look on his face then. In a way, it made the man seem more..._human, _though, and more approachable. And maybe just a little vulnerable, at least when it came to his son. He found that he liked a man who seemed to love his child that much, and he had been impressed by the way he had treated him. He had often found at the restaurant that how a person acted toward him or how he treated his family at the table spoke volumes about his or her character. One thing he _was_ sure of, though; he was dying to find out more about this man, even if their time together would be fleeting. Perhaps Daphne was right; he _did_ work too hard. He silently vowed that at least for today, he would let loose a little.

"Scoot!" she told him as she slapped him on the ass. He glared at her before she gave him a little push.

"Okay, okay, I'm going! You're not my mother!"

"Thank God!" she retorted as he rolled his eyes. Grabbing his key to the chalet, he turned and rushed out the door.

* * *

><p>Disembarking from the green trolley bus about 45 minutes later and standing near the front gate, he looked around, realizing he didn't even know what Brian's vehicle looked like. Not that it really mattered, though; not in THIS bustling crowd. He didn't have to worry about it for long, however, as he heard a loud squeal of a whistle nearby, and turned to see a familiar moppet with brown hair running towards him with a blue-and-white engineer's cap perched on his head. Around his neck was the wooden train whistle that he had presented to Gus yesterday; it bobbed up and down rapidly on his denim suspenders as he ran helter-skelter toward him. A blue-and-white, paisley scarf was tied around his neck that matched his cap, and a blue and white striped shirt completed his outfit.<p>

"Just'n! I brought my train whistle!" He gave it a couple toots for emphasis as Justin laughed.

"I see that! That's very smart of you," he told him with a smile as Gus beamed. "You never know when the engineer might need some help, so that whistle might come in very handy." He couldn't help thinking how adorable the little boy looked. He was the spitting image of his father, although he suspected Brian would never be caught dead in such an outfit. He ruffled the little boy's hair affectionately before glancing up as he saw a shadow nearby, locking glances with Brian as he walked toward them. Sure enough, even though it was a decidedly casual event, Brian was dressed meticulously, from the mirrored shades perched on top of his head, down to his perfectly fitting, black linen, button-down shirt, his designer blue jeans, and a pair of black leather boots. The man obviously purchased only tailored clothes, because both the shirt and the pants fit him perfectly. Justin licked his lips nervously, suddenly feeling a bit out of his league as the other man approached. One look at Brian's sweeping, appreciative gaze of his appearance, however, and he decided that perhaps he had been premature. He blushed over the intensity of the other man's scrutiny of him as he nodded back at him with a smile.

"Daddy bought me a camera!" he told Justin excitedly as he reached inside his overall pocket to fish out a small, disposable, one-time model.

Justin smiled as Brian walked over to stand beside them. "I can see that; that's great," he told him. "I use a camera all the time to take pictures I can use for my sketches," he explained. He peered over at Brian, unable to help the flush that spread across his cheeks. Fuck, the man was not only gorgeous, but just a little intimidating by the intense way he continually stared back at him. He wished silently that he could figure out what he was thinking, but something told him he could be a very complex man.

"Hey," he responded tentatively as Gus peered up at him curiously, glancing back and forth at him and his father.

Brian glanced around where they were standing, his mouth hanging open as he shook his head in disbelief. If he had known yesterday where this train _was_, he would have never agreed to this. Now, however, he was stuck. "Did you maybe forget to mention something to me yesterday?" he asked pointedly.

Justin assumed his most innocent expression. "I don't think so."

"_Dollywood_? Are you fu...are you kidding me? THIS is where the train ride is? At this country bumpkin fair?"

"It's better than that," Justin maintained, not quite sure why he was defending Dolly Parton's amusement park. "It's got other things besides rides and cotton candy."

Gus's eyes bugged out over the mention of two of his favorite things as he jiggled lightly up and down on his feet. "Can we go see, Daddy? Do they have bumper cars?" he asked, his face lit up with anticipation. That was one of his favorite rides in all the world.

Justin smiled. "Yes. It's called _Demolition Derby_. You like bumper cars?"

Gus nodded his head vigorously as Brian groaned. The last time he had been talked into riding in a bumper car with Gus he had had a migraine for a fucking week. "Great," he grumbled, but Gus did not seem to notice his less-than-enthusiastic response. He sighed. "Okay, Sonny Boy," he murmured, unable to stay too irritated as he peered down at his child. He never _could _stay angry for long with that look of loving adoration on his face. He smiled. "We'll do the train ride first, and then do some exploring afterward. Sound good?" Gus nodded enthusiastically as Brian ruffled the top of his head affectionately before turning to peer over at their companion.

In the bright wash of sunlight, Justin looked even more beautiful than in the restaurant; his blond hair gleamed, and his blue eyes were markedly accentuated by the color of his form-fitting tee-shirt. His eyes briefly flicked down and then back up appreciatively as he noticed a pink tint appear on his cheeks. "You look...different, by the way,..out of your hokey waiter uniform," he couldn't help observing with a smile.

Justin rolled his eyes. "I _hate_ that outfit!" he revealed. "I wouldn't be caught dead wearing that anywhere else."

"Oh, I don't know," Brian countered. "Gus had me looking at all the attractions in town online last night, and I think you'd fit right in at the _Hatfield and McCoys Feud Show." _

"Thanks," Justin told him with a mock scowl. "But I think I'll pass. I'd rather eat hog jowls and possum grits than go to work at THAT place."

Brian couldn't help laughing over his response, reaching to grasp Gus's hand, sensing his little dynamo of a son would run off if he didn't keep track of him. He tended to be in constant motion, so for him to remain stationary for more than two or three minutes had to be a new record for him.

"I hope you realize what you've created here," he warned him, as Gus pulled excitedly on his hand toward the gate. "He's a hard one to keep up with, and I didn't bring his leash with me." He grinned at Justin's horrified expression. "I'm kidding," he assured him as his companion nodded in relief. "But don't think I haven't thought about it." He shook his head in resignation. "Okay, let's do it now while I still have the energy. Train ride first, Gus...and then we'll check out the other attractions, okay?" He pulled his son's cap down over his eyes playfully as Gus glared up at him; well, at least as much as he could with his eyes obstructed.

"Daddy! I can't see like this!" He yanked the cap back up to glare at his father, who merely laughed. Swooping to pick him up into his arms - opting for the safest, most convenient method of monitoring his whereabouts - he began to walk toward the busy, front gates, glancing back at their instigator. "Well, come on! You started this!"

Justin laughed. "I didn't invite you to come here, remember? It was the other way around."

"Oh. Yeah, right. You just forgot to mention the train ride was at an amusement park, that's all."

"Oh...yeah...maybe I did," he conceded.

Brian rolled his eyes. "Convenient," he grumbled good-naturedly. "Let's go, Warhol. You can help me supervise in between sketches."

Justin smiled as he watched the handsome father and son striding toward the front gate, Brian pausing periodically to answer one of Gus's myriad range of questions. It was amazing to watch how tender Brian was toward his son. He didn't really know much at all about the man - other than he was amazing to look at and apparently did not want for money - but to him, merely watching the two interact was enough to tell him that this was a caring man. He knew, too, that he definitely wanted to learn more about him.

"Well? You're going to have to be faster on your feet than that."

Justin chuckled as he hurried to catch up to them. "Okay, I'm coming!" he assured him, noticing the two were already through the admission turnstile. And he thought _he_ was fleet of foot in the restaurant; something told him he was going to be dead on his feet by the end of the day, but somehow he thought it would be worth it.

* * *

><p><em>An Hour Later onboard the Dollywood Express...<em>

Brian couldn't help grinning as he heard the ear-piercing squeals coming from his son, who was presently sitting right next to the older, wizened engineer in the locomotive section of the train. He had discovered upon boarding that Justin actually knew the engineer by name, having ridden so often on the train that he was instantly recognized by him; it had been the blond who had asked the man if Gus could ride up front with him, and to his son's delight, he had agreed, provided that he sat in the seat next to him with his seatbelt on. He had even let him pull on the horn cord to blow the steam engine whistle a couple of times as they had rounded the second curve earlier. He thought he had never seen his son look so happy as he had looked just then, and Justin had had the foresight to quickly capture the moment on his cellphone. Now, about thirty minutes later, his son was having the time of his life, the engineer providing him with a running commentary on all the gadgets he had to use to operate the train. He wasn't sure, though, who was having the most fun: his son, the engineer...or him.

He gazed over at his companion, who was furiously sketching at his seat from across the aisle. While he would have preferred they sit together, he had initially been seated next to Gus, and hadn't moved from his place by the window yet, enjoying the cool wind that caressed him through the open area. Oddly enough, they had wound up being the only two in this particular car, most of the other passengers choosing to sit in the open-air cars in the rear to get a better view of the countryside. His curiosity, however, finally got the better of him as he rose from his seat and walked a couple of feet over to where Justin was sitting, peering down at the half-finished artwork. His eyes widened as he instantly recognized the subjects - his son and the elderly engineer - and he was astonished by the quality of the work. "That's amazing," he couldn't help murmuring aloud as Justin paused what he was doing and glanced up at him. He had apparently been so caught up in what he had been doing that he hadn't even realized Brian had approached him.

He flushed at the praise as he replied humbly with a smile, "Thanks. I love to draw candid portraits, and your son and Bud are a natural. That's the name of the engineer," he explained as Brian nodded.

"Do you mind?" Brian asked, indicating the seat next to him with his hand.

"Not at all," Justin replied, as Brian sat down.

"Can I take a closer look?" he asked.

Justin hesitated for a moment before he nodded, handing the sketchpad to Brian so he could get a better inspection of his work. The detail and realism were striking, down to the conductor's wrinkled skin, and the slight discoloration of his fingernails. He shook his head in amazement; why was someone with this type of talent slinging hash instead?

"Looks like my son and the engineer aren't the only natural ones," he commented, gazing at it a few moments longer before he handed it back to Justin. "Where did you learn to draw like that?"

Justin smiled with a shrug. "I've been drawing practically from the moment I was placed in the crib. My mom always kidded me that I would have been happier with a paintbrush in my hand instead of a pacifier."

"You don't look all that far removed from that time period now," Brian observed wryly. "Just how old ARE you, anyway?"

"I'm of legal age," Justin responded cryptically, wondering whether it was smart to admit how young he was to this man. Not that it mattered to _him_, but he wasn't sure how Brian would feel about it.

Brian nodded. This young man was a mystery to him - in a lot of ways. He found it frustrating...but also fascinating. He smirked. "Well, legal age is more than adequate for what I would have in mind for later," he told him, his eyes boring into the beautiful, expressive face that was rapidly turning an attractive shade of pink.

Justin cleared his throat and peered down at his partially finished work, his hands trembling slightly over the other man's words. It wasn't so much what he was saying, but _how_ he was saying it. It left no doubt in his mind what he wanted from him, and it made him both nervous as well as excited. Wasn't that the same thing he wanted as well, though? He HAD promised himself that he was going to 'let loose,' hadn't he? He took a deep breath. "And that would be what?" he dared to say, even though he already knew the answer.

"You have to ask?" was the husky response as Justin lifted his face to dare to look at his companion. He shook his head now as almost unconsciously they moved closer to each other, their thighs touching like two hot firebrands rubbing together, and their lips inches apart. They weren't aware of anyone else in the train car as they stared at each other, spellbound. That is, until Gus came bursting back toward them, his face glowing with excitement.

"Daddy! Daddy!" The engineer let loose of his hand as he nodded with a smile at the two men and returned to the locomotive to join the assistant engineer, who was presently guiding the train.

The sexual tension broken between them, Brian cleared his throat as he looked over at his son and smiled. "How was it, Sonny Boy?"

"It was great, Daddy!" the little boy shouted as he promptly plopped down in his father's lap. Justin watched, entranced, as Brian slid his arms around the slender body to hold him in place. His entire face transformed into something distinctly tender and loving as he replied, "I'm glad you got to sit up in the front with the engineer. Was that you sounding the horn earlier?" His son nodded vigorously as he grinned. "I thought so. Well, he's lucky to have someone like you to help him."

Gus beamed at the attention as he looked over at their companion. "Let me see!" he begged as he immediately recognized himself and the engineer. Justin smiled as he turned the sketchbook so Gus could take a better look at the picture. "That's me!" he cried out in delight. "And Bud!"

Justin laughed. "Yes, it is," he replied. "I used that photo I took of the two of you earlier, remember?"

Gus nodded. "I like Bud. He's fun."

Brian and Justin smiled at each other. "Well, next time we come back here, Sonny Boy, we'll have to ride the train again, okay?" Brian replied. His son nodded his head and smiled radiantly at his father as Justin tried hard to keep the smile on his own face; inside, however, he couldn't contain his disappointment in reaction to Brian's words. He silently chided himself; he had only met this man and his son less than a day ago. What difference should it make to him if they were getting ready to leave soon, then? He knew they had their lives in another place, and he had his...at least what it was.

Each day he lived in this picturesque but decidedly touristy dominion, he could feel his dream of being an artist slowly slipping away. Did he really want to wind up as some caricature artist in one of those shops a few miles down the road in Gatlinburg, set up in front of a store selling yet another variation of fudge, or some wood carving of a bear that was made in China? That wasn't being an 'artist.' That was living month-to-month while his soul, his passion, slowly died a little bit each day. At the rate HE was saving up money, it would take at best a few years before he could ever entertain the notion of attending art school.

No, there had to be a better way. He sighed. Sometimes, despite trying to remain upbeat and hopeful, it was hard to see the bigger picture.

"Justin?"

He let out a deep breath as he peered over at Brian, who had a questioning look on his face. He must have heard him utter the sigh, or seen the look on his face. He noticed Gus staring at him curiously as well. "Hmm?'

"Something wrong?"

His lips spread into a half-smile as he shook his head. "I'm fine. I...I was just doing some thinking."

"Must have been a pretty heavy subject by the look on your face." Brian paused, amazing by how much he wanted Justin to be happy. He didn't even know this man, and yet... "I'm a good listener, if you ever want to talk," he told him. _Oh, my God. Did he just say that? He never wanted to just 'talk' before..._

Justin smiled back at him gratefully. He took a deep breath and let it out. "But I'm fine; really." He looked out the window, quickly recognizing where they were in the trip's route. "We're almost back at the station," he told his companions. "About five more minutes."

Brian nodded. "I don't know whether to be relieved by that fact, or be nervous about it," he quipped as he grinned down at his son who was bouncing on his lap. "At least on the train I could keep a good eye on him."

Justin chuckled. "I'm beginning to see what you mean." He closed up his sketch book and slid it and his pencils into the portfolio he was carrying before slinging it over his head and one shoulder to secure it. "I'll try to help you keep track of him," he promised with a grin.

Brian nodded as the train's bell clanged and the lumbering vehicle began to slow as it headed toward the train depot. "I'm going to hold you to that," he told him as the three of them rose from their seats and headed toward one of the open exit doors.

* * *

><p><em>Later that Evening...<em>

"Well, that's one thing about Sonny Boy," Brian mused as he came back into the condo's living room after tucking a thoroughly exhausted Gus into his bed and shutting the door so it was barely ajar; he always brought a nightlight with him so he could plug it in somewhere near his child's room for comfort, and he had found an outlet near the bed where it could be used. "He's a ball of fire during the day, but since he's so energetic, when he goes to bed he conks out fast - after a few pages from his favorite book, anyway." The three of them had stopped on the way back to the apartment to grab a few groceries, and Brian had surprised him by actually whipping up a fairly tasty meal of whole wheat spaghetti with marinara sauce and parmesan cheese, with a tossed Caesar Salad on the side and fresh fruit with light whipped cream for dessert.

Justin raised his eyebrows in question.

"Can't you guess what it is?" he asked him as he sat down next to Justin and reached for the glass of wine he had left sitting on the glass coffee table in front of the couch.

Justin seemed to ponder that question for a few seconds before he grinned. "_The Little Engine that Could_?"

Brian grinned back at him as he clinked his glass against Justin's. "Bingo." He shook his head. "That boy has a - pardon the pun - one-track mind when it comes to trains."

Justin chuckled. "Well, I could think of worse things to be fixated on."

Brian's smile diminished then to be replaced by something more intense. "I could easily get fixated on _you._"

Justin's eyes grew wide and his face warmed as Brian reached to take his wine glass away from him, placing both of them down onto the coffee table, before he leaned in closer.

"Brian...What...?"

Did he really have to say anything, however, as his companion's eyes slowly drifted lower to stare down hungrily at his lips? Justin was mesmerized by the long silkiness of Brian's eyelashes before the brunet lifted his eyes back up to peer into his. Time seemed to go by in slow motion then before, at last, Brian reached over to grip his upper arms and pull him in closer, a second or two before he pressed their lips together for a kiss.

Brian's lips were warm and gently probing as Justin's eyes filtered closed so he could concentrate on the sensations it was generating in him. _Oh, wow. This was like no other kiss he had ever had before, and he had been kissed plenty of times. _Without even realizing it, he emitted a soft gasp as Brian's tongue swept across his lower lip in silent demand, his arms sliding around Brian's back to pull him closer as the kiss deepened further.

Brian's hands latched onto Justin's face as he angled his head and slid his tongue inside; he almost felt dizzy from the delicious feeling and the taste as he began a more thorough exploration. _Shit, this guy can kiss_, he couldn't help thinking as he slowly lowered Justin onto his back so he was lengthwise on the couch. He decided it was time to get more comfortable as he lay on top of him; he had no intention of this stopping any time soon. He had never seen the need or desire to kiss someone indefinitely before - it was always a pleasurable, temporary prelude to the 'main event' - but for once he saw the benefit in it. He could kiss this man forever; that is, if his body wasn't betraying his great desire for him, and screaming for more intimate contact. He knew that soon he would need to become much more familiar with the rest of his body, or he might very well self-combust.

Finally breaking off their kiss after practically devouring the man's lips, he raised up onto his knees, staring down at Justin's mussed-up clothes, bruised mouth, flushed face, and overall debauched state. He was sexy as hell. Justin stared up mutely into his eyes as he began to slide his hands under the hem of his shirt, intending on pulling it up over his head to savor the skin underneath when he heard a noise and groaned in comprehension.

"Daddy? I'm thirsty."

Reluctantly scrambling from Justin's body, Brian rose from the couch, just in time to see his sleepy-eyed son shuffling out from his bedroom, rubbing his eyes and clutching his favorite stuffed animal: a _Curious George_ monkey that had been a Christmas gift from him last year.

Justin hurriedly sat up on the couch just before Gus walked over to stand next to them, pulling his t-shirt down to straighten it out and reaching to grab a sip of his wine to steady himself. He felt hard; hard as a rock. And one glance over at Brian, and he knew he was feeling the same repressed desire.

To his credit, though, Brian did not appear either impatient or irritated with Gus as he replied, "You need some water, Sonny Boy?" Gus nodded as his father walked over to the adjoining kitchen, and grabbed a bottle of cold water from the fridge. "Take a seat, and I'll get you a glass. How come you woke up, Buddy? Did you have a bad dream?"

Gus shook his head as he continued to tightly hug the stuffed animal. "No...I woke up and didn't know where I was. I got a little scared. And then I decided I was thirsty."

Brian hid his smile beneath his left hand as he nodded. "I see," he told him as he placed a small, plastic cup down in front of his son and poured half the bottle into it before screwing the lid back on and placing it back into the refrigerator. "Might as well take care of your thirst, too, then." He glanced over at Justin on the couch, who was silently observing the two of them. "Everyone needs to quench their thirst sometime." He smirked as Justin blushed in reaction before turning his attention back to his child, who had managed to already drink over a third of what was in his glass.

"Daddy?"

"Yeah?"

"Sometimes I need to eat, too."

Brian chuckled. "Are you trying to tell me you're hungry, also?" Gus nodded with a smile as Brian laughed. "Well, we have some grapes in the fridge."

Gus wrinkled up his nose. "I was thinking of something else."

Brian exchanged amused smiles with Justin as he replied, "Now I wonder what that could be. Hmm...Would it be black and white and chocolaty all over?" Gus nodded and grinned back eagerly at him in delight until Brian shook his head.

"No, not this late, Buddy. You know what happens when you eat Oreos late at night; all that sugar, and you'll be bouncing off the walls the rest of the night."

"Daddy..."

"No, Gus. I'm not going to budge on that one. Remember our deal about eating healthy the next couple of days? You promised. We can take what's left in the package back home with us, if you want. But no more on this trip...okay?"

Gus pouted, but finally nodded glumly. "Okay," he grumbled as Brian nodded. Grabbing a plastic bowl from one of the cupboards, he grabbed a small bunch of green grapes from the crisper drawer of the fridge and handed them to his son. "There you go; now eat up, Sonny Boy, and then it's back to bed for you."

Ten minutes later - and a quick trip to the bathroom by father and son - and Justin had finished up the rest of his wine. Brian's words with his son hadn't gone unnoticed by him. Were they leaving that soon? He could only surmise that was what he had meant a few minutes ago.

He watched as Brian walked back over and sat down next to him; their intimate encounter from before seemingly disrupted now. "Brian?"

Brian reached for his own wine glass and took a long sip, holding the glass around the curved bottom as he asked, "Yeah?"

"What you said to Gus earlier...About the cookies...Does that mean that the two of you will be leaving in a couple of days?" He realized he didn't even know where they were from, or anything about him; not really. But for some reason, he felt a pang of disappointment as Brian nodded his head in the affirmative.

"Yeah...I have to be back home by Friday. Big client meeting." Justin peered at him curiously as he explained, "I own one of the largest advertising agencies in the Midwest. And I have joint custody of Gus. He has to return back to Toronto Friday night, anyway, so I would have to be back regardless of the meeting or not."

"Oh." Justin's face fell slightly, but he recovered quickly as he nodded back at him with a half-smile. He placed his glass back down onto the coffee table and, brushing his hands against the denim material, he stood up as Brian frowned up at him.

"Where are you going?"

"It's late," Justin told him regretfully. God, he wanted nothing more than to stay and get to know this intriguing man better, both intellectually and physically. But there was something about him that caused him to realize it would be all or nothing with him - and he knew that under the circumstances he could never have that. They lived in two different worlds. "I'd better get going. I have the breakfast shift tomorrow..." He paused. "But thank you. I had a great time with you and your son - and I really enjoyed tonight."

Brian rose quickly to his feet as Justin turned to head toward the door. He wasn't quite sure what he was doing, but he knew he wasn't ready for Justin to leave; not by a long shot. Surprisingly, too, it wasn't just his libido steering his actions. Justin wasn't the only one who didn't want their time together to end. But how practical was that?

Justin turned to stare into his eyes as he struggled over what to say. "We...were just starting to get to know each other," he finally told him. "We WILL be here for two more days," he reminded him. "Gus really likes spending time with you. So do I," he added softly. "We could still use a tour guide to navigate our way around here," he added with a smile. "There's only so much time to hit all the putt-putt golf courses." _As if that were his life's ambition - but Gus seemed to be intent on becoming a pro golfer one day, even though his swing left a lot to be desired..._

"...and there's a ski lift ride in Gatlinburg that goes up to the top of the hill there. Gus has been bugging me like crazy to ride it. I'm a little afraid of heights," he found himself admitting, surprising even himself in the process. He had never told anyone else that, except for his best friend, Michael, and Michael's mother, Debbie. "You wouldn't want me to do something foolish if I freak out on it, and wind up falling to my death below, would you?"

Justin couldn't help rolling his eyes and smiling at the other man as Brian pulled his lips under. "Are you really afraid of heights, or just shitting me, Brian?"

"Come with us, and you'll find out," he vowed, lifting one eyebrow hopefully. He was amazed at the moment that he was more interested in pursuing Justin's company tomorrow with his son, rather than fucking him tonight - although he definitely was interested in that as well. He didn't even want to ponder that odd happenstance, but it still astounded him. He had never felt that way before. "What do you say? Surely you won't be working nonstop for the next couple of days. When is your shift over tomorrow?"

Justin hesitated; he knew he was risking further sorrow and disappointment when the two of them left if he got even more attached to them. But on the other hand, he desperately wanted to spend more time with them; father AND son. "Well, I get off at two."

Brian beamed in triumph as he nodded. "We'll pick you up tomorrow at two, then. But don't expect us to eat there," he warned him. "My stomach isn't THAT strong."

Justin laughed, mulling it over for a moment before nodding in agreement. "Okay," he told him. "Two." He smiled. "But be warned; Gatlinburg isn't exactly a mecca of healthy eating choices, either." He turned and slowly started heading toward the front door of the condo, Brian following closely behind.

"Surely they have salads or something healthy there," he countered skeptically.

Justin turned as he reached the door, his back against it as he told him with a grin, "Not really. But we'll figure something out." His smile faded as Brian placed his hands on either side of his head and leaned in toward him.

"Yeah, I think we will," he whispered as he molded his body against Justin's for a proper goodbye kiss. _Oh, God; I could get so addicted to this,_ he couldn't help thinking as their kiss deepened quickly, and he wrapped his arms around Justin's slim waist.

It took all of Justin's willpower to finally break off the kiss as he pressed his hands against Brian's chest and gently pulled them apart. "I have to go," he told him with great reluctance.

"No, you don't," Brian huskily countered. "Stay here with me. There are two bedrooms."

"Yeah," Justin replied. "Yours and your son's." He shook his head to Brian's disappointment. "I really have to go. I'll see you tomorrow," he promised him as partial compensation.

Brian sighed as he let go of Justin and reached to slide back the security bolt to open the door. "Not the answer I was hoping for," he conceded as he held the door for him. "But I guess I understand." Truthfully, it _would_ have been awkward for them to have sex with his son in the next room, even if he was enormously attracted to Justin.

Justin nodded as he reached up to impulsively lay his hand against Brian's stubbled cheek. "Thanks again for tonight, Brian," he told him with a smile before he turned and headed outside into the second floor walkway, quietly closing the door behind him. Brian stood there, hearing Justin's footsteps echoing softly against the metal of the walkway, before he turned and headed back to his bedroom, wondering if his dreams would cooperate and he would spend the next several hours fantasizing about a certain, beautiful blond.

_Chapter End Notes:_

Hope you enjoyed this part. Will have the next chapter up in a couple of days. Thank you for reading.


	4. From Rapture to Heartbreak

_Father and son take Justin along with them on their adventure. Justin finds out something surprising about Brian as they prepare for their inevitable separation. _

_The Next Afternoon - Gatlinburg_

Brian sighed; his edict to his son yesterday about only eating healthy foods during the rest of their vacation had promptly gone out the window today. Turned out, Justin had been right. There were precious few choices in this tourist trap when it came to what would resemble wholesome food choices. He had finally given up, resigned to trying to keep his energetic son from choosing anything that was pure sugar. Of course, it didn't help that every other shop on the main drag seemed to either be a candy shop, an ice cream store, or some hot dog and burger joint.

He was grateful, though, that Justin knew his way around the relatively small town, and steered them to a right at the fork in the road, taking them parallel to the main road and avoiding much of the traffic there. He briefly protested against the $10 parking fee at one of the side lots, but Justin convinced him that it was the best alternative unless he wanted a long walk into town. With a small boy who tended to get ahead of himself, that could have been disastrous with all the people cramped together. So with gritted teeth, he paid the ungodly high amount, parking close to the 'sky lift' that his son so fervently wanted to ride.

He peered down to study the slick brochure that he had picked up nearby, noticing the not-so-secure-looking metal chairs and the elevation of 1,800 feet to a place called "Ober Gatlinburg" at the other end that promised to provide one of the best views of the town, a fact that didn't sit too well (pun intended) with Brian, as he gazed anxiously upward at their ending destination. The sets of yellow, metal chairs seemed to go on and on forever to him.

"Brian?"

He turned to look over at Justin and his son, who were standing next to the ticket booth. Nodding, he walked closer to them as the woman gazed expectantly back at him. He swallowed. "Three," he managed to say more calmly than he felt. "Two adults and one child. Uh..." The woman looked at him as he asked, "How many can fit in one chair?"

The woman studied the two men and little boy before she stated, "It would be a tight squeeze, but if you wanted to all ride together, I think you would fit."

Brian nodded, relieved, as the three of them took their tickets and headed around the left-hand side toward the embarking area. Just like with regular ski chairs, the yellow metal chairs continually wound slowly around a loop. The attendant motioned for them to approach as Brian held tightly onto his son's hand. A few seconds later, the three of them walked over and waited for the chair to arrive; a slight nudge from behind and they quickly sat down into the chair, Gus squealing in excitement as he sat between his father and Justin.

His son's enthusiasm was contagious as Brian smiled over at Justin, the chair rocking slightly as it slowly ascended upward toward the mountain. Brian's heart began to pound a little anxiously as he strove not to look down; that would only make his feelings of having no control over his situation even more pronounced. For a man who was used to always being confident and in charge, this was an unsettling feeling to him, and he did not like it.

Seemingly sensing that Brian was a little uncomfortable - and that he really _hadn't _been lying about being afraid of heights - Justin reached across Gus to link his left hand with Brian's right. Brian gripped it tightly as his eyes locked onto Justin's gratefully; a slight nod and a soft smile were the only indications that Justin understood as Gus merrily swung his legs back and forth between them, not a care in the world.

Suddenly he shrieked in delight, making Brian jump slightly and tighten his grip even more. "Look, Daddy!" I see a bear down there!" He pointed down toward his father's left side. "And there's another one! A baby!"

Others nearby in some adjacent chairs hurriedly peered down where Gus was pointing, and began to murmur animatedly, whipping out their cameras or cellphones to snap a picture, while Brian swallowed hard. If it hadn't been for his son, he would have never agreed to do this. His stomach was churning, and he was afraid he might puke any minute.

"Daddy, why aren't you looking?" Gus asked curiously, as he noticed his father's eyes fixed, instead, on their destination ahead, which was slowly coming closer and closer into view.

"He wants to make sure we can get off the ride in time," Justin answered calmly, trying to sound casual. He smiled over at Gus. "Why don't you take some photos for US, Gus, and then you can show them to your father when we get off?"

Gus nodded in agreement as he reached inside his lightweight jacket and eagerly began to snap some photos.

Justin peered over at Brian, who was taking some deep breaths in an effort to calm himself, his face pallid in color. He had never suffered from acrophobia, but he _did_ have a fear of snakes - born from a long-ago encounter with a copperhead several years ago when he had almost been bitten by one at the age of six - so he had some idea what Brian must be going through at the moment. He slowly rubbed his thumb across Brian's hand in support as the other man turned to stare over at him with a half-smile, his face sweaty. Justin knew it wasn't due to the temperature, though.

"Almost there," Justin murmured as Gus nodded excitedly after putting his camera back into his pocket. He was addressing Brian, though; trying to reassure him that his ordeal was almost over, as he continued to stare into his eyes and rub his hand reassuringly.

Finally the chair reached the docking station, and the three of them were able to disembark, Brian in record time. He let out a huge breath of relief as he placed his hand on Gus's shoulder. Letting out a deep breath, he looked around the large, flat, open space. He wasn't really afraid of heights per se; but when he had nothing underneath him, it fucking terrified him. "Ready to go check the view, Sonny Boy?" he asked eventually as Justin peered over at him curiously.

Gus nodded his head eagerly as he reached for his father's hand and began to pull him toward a series of pay-to-view magnifying stations located several feet away. "Come on, Daddy!" he shouted.

Brian could see the area without any obstruction, and was confident he could keep an eye on his rambunctious son, so he let go of his hand to reply, "Go on ahead, Sonny Boy. I'll be right there." Gus nodded as he made a mad dash toward the viewing area that was protected by a railing.

Sure enough, Justin spoke up as soon as they were alone. "Are you okay? I guess you really _weren't _kidding, were you?"

"I'm fine," Brian told him as he stared out over the panoramic, mountain view. Now that they were back on solid ground, he could appreciate the amazing vista. It really WAS beautiful, with the mountain peaks kissed by wisps of the smokiness that resulted in their name. The town of Gatlinburg was nestled far below now, and except for the occasional visitor who walked by them, it was quite peaceful up here. He turned his attention back to his companion, who was eyeing him with dubious concern.

"Really. I'm fine, Justin. I...I do have an issue when I'm up high and there's nothing below me for support. It makes me feel out of control, and I just get this sort of...I don't know, it's hard to describe. I know I don't _like_ that feeling," he admitted as he glanced over at his son to keep an eye on him.

"Then why in the world did you do it?" Justin asked, knowing what Brian's answer would probably be before he said it.

Brian gazed over at his son, who was having a blast, before he replied simply, "Because of him."

Justin nodded just before they both heard a familiar voice trying to get their attention. "Daddy! Come and see! I need some money so I can look!" Gus - being the smart boy that he was - had already figured out that it took quarters to work the machines properly.

"I'll be right there, Sonny Boy!" Brian called out to him. He turned to Justin. "It's okay," he told him again, just to make sure he understood. "And please don't say anything to Gus; I wouldn't want him to worry about me."

"What about the way back down?" Justin pointed out.

Brian smiled. "That's what I have _you_ and Sonny Boy for. You're the best antidote that I can think of."

Justin blushed as he nodded again, following Brian over to the lookout area to join Gus.

* * *

><p><em>Early evening...<em>

Justin watched in open-mouthed astonishment as Gus lined up his smaller-sized golf club and deftly sunk a six-foot putt into the hole of a pirate ship's round window. Gus promptly jumped up and down in reaction. "I did it! I did it!"

"You sure did, Sonny Boy!" Brian praised him. He grinned over at Justin, who had a look of shock on his face.

"How...how does he _do _that? How old IS he?"

The corner of Brian's mouth quirked upward. "I should have warned you," he told him with a smile. "Gus lives about a mile away from a putt-putt golf course back home, and he practices all the time with a toy version in his backyard. He's better than most adults."

Justin groaned. "NOW you tell me."

Brian laughed as he held the score pad and pencil out in front of him to study it. "Well, that's a score of...13 for Gus, 11 for me. And let's see...Tiger Woods over there has a total of 14 so far," he snickered. "Your turn."

"Gee, thanks for keeping such an accurate accounting," Justin retorted with a heavy sigh. "I never said I was any good at this," he lamented.

Brian's eyes twinkled as he handed the score pad and pencil to his son. "Here, Sonny Boy, you keep hold of this while I show our sports-challenged guest the proper stance for effective golf playing."

"I am _not _'sports challenged!'" Justin growled. "I happen to be very good at sports. Just not _this_ sport."

"Okay, Daddy!" Gus replied, skipping gleefully over to the next hole.

"And stay where I can see you, Buddy," Brian added as Gus nodded. Brian grinned as his son placed the pad and pencil down onto a low-slung brick wall, and sat down next to it, reaching over to place his hand under the spray of a fountain spewing from the mouth of a one-eyed pirate.

Satisfied that his son was where he could keep an eye on him, he walked over and stood behind Justin, deciding his lack of coordination could be put to good use. He had been dying all day to get up close and personal with the beautiful blond, and this was as good a time as any. Sliding his arms around Justin's body, he clasped his hands over his, the other man's breath quickening in response. "Grip the shaft here," he murmured. "Put your feet slightly apart," he whispered in Justin's ear as he gently gave the left one a nudge with his leg to separate them a little more. He was finding it extremely difficult at the moment, however, to concentrate with his cock brushing up against Justin's denim-clad ass, and he wondered briefly if this was such a good idea or not. "Now keep your eye on the ball." He cleared his throat. "The ball down there," he clarified as Justin snorted. He kept his hands cupped over Justin's as he told him, "Now pull your putter slightly back and keep it steady before you hit the ball." He smirked. "I always keep my eye on the hole when _I'm _aiming; that makes it a lot more...interesting."

_Oh, my God, _Justin groaned inwardly_. _Brian expected him to concentrate on playing putt-putt golf when he's holding him so tightly against his body, and gripping his large, warm hands over his? _Fuck, is he kidding? He knows exactly what he's doing, too_, Justin declared to himself. Well, he could do this. He could concentrate on playing golf...not on Brian. Couldn't he? He nodded, taking a deep breath as he swung his locked arms back slightly, stared at the hole ten feet away, and prepared to take aim...just before Brian whispered in his ear again, and his focus was quickly shot to hell.

"I want to fuck you so badly right now," Brian growled, just as he made contact with the ball. He heard Brian chuckle as the ball went widely astray and wound up landing on the green of the previous hole. Thankfully no one was currently playing that hole, but an older couple nearby couldn't help chortling over his outrageous shot.

Justin turned around to stare at him in a huff, his face red with embarrassment. "You did that on purpose!" he cried out in indignation. "You...you knew that would...distract me."

Brian grinned as he released Justin from his hold and held his hands out to his sides. "I was just trying to help."

Justin tried to stay mad at him, but one look at the impish look on Brian's face, and he just couldn't do it. He shook his head in exasperation as he stomped over to the previous hole, picked up his ball, and threw it onto the next green, watching in astonishment as it bounced a couple of times and promptly landed in the cup. _What the fuck?_

Brian's mouth hung open in disbelief as Justin grinned back at him, walking over to his side. "Well, that one's done," he announced as he swung his putter up jauntily over his left shoulder and turned to catch up with Gus, who was impatiently swinging his own club back and forth. "Are you coming?" he asked innocently as he turned to look coyly over his shoulder.

"Apparently not anytime soon," he muttered to himself.

"Oh, and don't forget to mark me down with a 2 for that hole."

"But...Now wait just a minute! That...that wasn't...that's not in the rules..." Justin raised his eyebrows as both he and Gus stared over at him expectantly. Rolling his eyes, he hurried to catch up with them, knowing there was no possible way he was going to win this round - in more ways than one.

Taking the paper pad and pencil from his son, he grudgingly recorded a '2' for Justin's unorthodox play on the previous hole. Justin smiled sweetly over at him as he shook his head in resignation.

"Your turn, Sonny Boy," he told his son as he gave Justin a look that said _I'll pay you back for this later_. Justin merely laughed at his expression until Brian's scowl transformed into a grin. As he watched his son and Justin playing, he couldn't help thinking that he could get used to this hokey type of entertainment.

* * *

><p><em>Brian's rental chalet - 11:00 p.m.<em>

Brian shook his head in disbelief as he gazed at the 5" X 7", sepia-tinted photo in front of him, showing himself, Justin, and Gus. Somehow he had been talked into participating in a photo shoot down in town, dressing up in full Western attire, including a vest with a pocket watch, boots with spurs, and a rifle slung over his arm. He couldn't help smiling at the look of seriousness on all their faces, though. The photographer had told them they were lawmen, and that they were hunting bank robbers, so they were supposed to look like they meant business. Of course, as soon as the photo had been taken, and the photographer had given them the 'thumbs up' - indicating the photo was a good one - they had all cracked up.

He had to admit, though. Despite the gimmickry of it, Justin looked hot with his combed-down hair parted on one side, his dark-brown, silk vest that skimmed perfectly over his slim chest, and the denim jeans that curved in all the right spots. And Gus was absolutely in heaven with _his_ outfit, consisting of a miniature version of their own, complete with a toy pistol and a bag full of fake coins in his hand, as if he had busted the bank robbers and was returning the money to the townspeople.

He looked up as Justin walked over and sat down next to him on the couch, having excused himself a few minutes earlier to use the bathroom. "I can't believe you talked me into this," he murmured as Justin grinned. A thoroughly worn-out Gus was presently fast asleep in his bedroom down the hall, leaving both men alone for the time being.

"You mean it won't be going on display on your desk at work?" Justin teased, already sensing what the answer would be.

"Hell, no!" Brian replied as Justin laughed. "I would never live this down. I look like a cross between Buffalo Bill and that guy that always limped on _Gunsmoke_."

Justin leaned in to study the photo carefully. "Well, I think it shows how devoted you are to your son," he told Brian softly as he placed his hand lightly on his wrist while he scrutinized the photo. Brian turned to look at him as he added, "Thank you for having two copies of it made, by the way. I'll treasure mine."

Brian smiled. "You're welcome, pardner," he teased him as Justin grinned in reaction to his distinctive drawl.

His eyes bored into Brian's as he told him wistfully, "I...I really had a great time today with you and Gus." He didn't want to think about how he would feel after they left. For now, he only wanted to think about pleasant things. He knew their time together was soon going to come to an end, though, and that still filled him with a sense of sadness and emptiness, even if it _was_ premature.

Brian stared at him as he spoke, captivated. What was this man doing to him? This was a brief vacation, an interlude before he had to return to the hustle and bustle of his hectic world in Pittsburgh. He didn't belong here; this was like a foreign world to him, and he would never be happy in a tourist trap like this. So why was he feeling a sense of loss already over having to leave? He was afraid to really consider the reason why. But he DID know that when he looked into Justin's eyes, he felt something he had never felt before. It both excited him and scared him.

"The day's not over yet," he murmured huskily as he leaned in closer and his eyes drifted downward to study Justin's full mouth, almost salivating in anticipation. He lifted his gaze just enough to stare into the blue orbs of his companion for acceptance, finding the same sort of desire reflected there, before he pressed his lips against Justin's for a kiss.

Brian's hands slid around Justin's waist as their kiss quickly deepened, pulling him closer; almost onto his lap. He felt Justin's hands on his back a few seconds later, slowly gliding lazily up and down as their kiss deepened. Somehow he managed to twist their bodies so they were lying lengthwise on the couch as he pressed his full weight onto Justin's and set about devouring his mouth.

They eventually broke off to regain their breath as he pulled back slightly to stare into the deep blue, expressive eyes, hearing Justin's breathing coming out in short pants of desire. Or was it his own? He had never felt this turned on before with any man as he rose to support himself on his knees and reached down to begin unbuttoning Justin's shirt. He urgently needed to feel the warm skin he knew would be underneath that intrusive fabric.

Justin watched him silently as Brian quickly doffed his own shirt with dispatch first, throwing it down onto the floor in a neglected heap. Justin's eyes were dark now with desire as Brian reached down to deftly undo his shirt and pull it apart, exposing his skin to the other man's hungry eyes. He shivered then - he wasn't sure from the look on Brian's face, or the cool air in the room - as Brian placed his hands, palms down, on his chest and slowly glided them upward to settle over his nipples. He gasped as the pads of Brian's fingers rubbed over the sensitive peaks, quickly making them hard and pebbly.

Unable to stand the sensual overload, Justin moaned loudly; it had been way too long since another man had touched him in this way, making him incredibly aroused, although he suspected it had more to do with who was touching him at the moment. Even if Brian was a virtual stranger to him, he seemed to know every place where he was the most sensitive, his fingers driving him crazy as they swirled over and over around his nipples.

"Oh, God," he keened as Brian's hands traveled over to grasp his upper arms and he leaned down while still kneeling over him, his face inches from his as the vibrant, hazel eyes bored into his.

"Fuck, I have to have you," Brian growled as his eyes drifted to take in the smooth, unblemished skin of Justin's chest. Licking his lips, he swooped down to give the younger man a bruising kiss, thoroughly swabbing the inside of his mouth before his lips blazed a scorching trail from Justin's jawline, down to his shoulders, and back toward his left nipple.

Justin's fingers dug into Brian's biceps and he arched off the couch as a wet, hot tongue took a swipe of his super-charged, sensitive flesh before Brian nipped the pebble with his teeth, smoothing the sting immediately afterward with another lick of his tongue.

Justin's hands began to do their own exploration as Brian continued to lap at first one nipple and then the other like a greedy cat, traveling upward to slide them across the brunet's lightly muscled back, marveling at how wonderful the hardness felt under his touch, before they slid further up Brian's body to come to rest on either side of his neck. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly, drowning in the feelings Brian was engendering in him, as his breath quickened considerably. His pants felt unbearably tight as his body's reaction to Brian's ministrations quickly escalated. "Brian..." he moaned out. "I'm going...I can't..." He couldn't formulate anything even remotely intelligent presently; he was much too caught up in the moment.

Fortunately, though, Brian easily discerned what he was trying to say as he rose back up onto his knees, reaching down to pull Justin up as well as he stole another quick kiss from him. "Bedroom, then - now!" he growled as he quickly slid off the couch and urgently tugged Justin upward to stand alongside him.

"But...Gus..." God, Justin wanted this so badly! But he also knew a certain, inquisitive little boy was only footsteps away, even though he was supposed to be asleep.

Brian groaned in disbelief; God, his dick was so hard and leaking right now. He had to have this man. As much as he loved his son, at that moment he prayed Gus would stay asleep - he should, considering how worn out he had been when they had returned here to the chalet. "He's asleep in his bed," he told Justin as he continued to grip his hand, feeling it trembling slightly under his touch. "Justin...you want this, I know you do..."

Justin certainly couldn't deny that; even if his desire for his man wasn't so patently obvious, there was no way he could tell Brian otherwise. "Yes," he admitted in a hoarse whisper, his lips still tingling from their kisses. He glanced down the hall, noting that Gus's bedroom door was almost completely closed. Do they dare? If Gus happened to awaken and discover them in his father's room, in the throes of a major fuck session, he would be embarrassed as hell. But as his eyes drunk in the sight of the other man - and easily noted his own desire reflected back at him - he knew he had to take the chance. It would be their one and only opportunity to be together, and he just couldn't pass it up. So he finally nodded.

That was all it took as Brian led the way toward his bedroom, taking care as they entered to close it almost all the way, but leaving it ajar just enough so that he would hear Gus should he call out for him.

No sooner were they in the room than Brian slammed Justin up against the nearby wall and smashed their lips together again, his tongue demanding entrance as he braced his hands, palms down, on either side of Justin's head. Justin wildly reached out to hold himself steady as a wash of emotions erupted over him. Somehow they made it over to the bed while they continued to kiss, Brian's hands skillfully unsnapping Justin's jeans and pulling the zipper down to yank them - and his briefs - down his legs in one, frantic movement. Turning their positions around so Justin had his back to the bed, Brian broke off their kiss and took control, impatiently pushing his soon-to-be lover down onto the bed by the shoulders.

Justin barely had time to acknowledge that the bed was actually a _waterbed_, bouncing slightly on the dynamically moving mattress, before Brian pulled off his shoes, socks, and the rest of his clothing, leaving his cock jutting out proudly for his inspection.

Brian's eye's widened slightly as he surveyed the prize in front of him; Justin was amazing, both coming and going, even more than he had fantasized about. Licking his lips hungrily, he quickly tugged off his own shoes and socks before pulling his jeans apart and sliding them and his briefs down his long legs, half-smiling smugly as he noticed the appreciative reaction he received from his companion.

Finally having the chance to see a fully-naked Brian, Justin sucked in a breath. _Holy shit_, was the only thing he could formulate in his mind. He had set out the other night to get laid, but this was way beyond his expectations. The man was...majestic. Majestic and hot as hell.

He barely had time to indulge himself before Brian swooped down onto the queen-sized bed on all fours and straddled his body, his eyes staring intensively into his like some elegant, wild animal about to consume its prey - his _willing _prey. Justin held his breath as Brian bent his legs at the knees and sat up to straddle his thighs, holding onto his waist with one hand as his other hand slid down his belly to rest in his thatch of curly pubic hair, his intentions crystal clear. Apparently someone wanted to indulge _himself_, too.

"Brian..." He tried to issue a warning - to tell him he wasn't going to be able to control himself much longer - but Brian seemed intent on tormenting him, albeit in a good way. He shut his eyes and gasped, his hands fisting the sheets on either side of his body as Brian's hand curled around his cock, hard and throbbing, and he began to stroke it masterfully with his long, warm fingers.

"Ahhhhh," Justin moaned loudly, unable to stop himself.

"Shh..." Afraid his son would hear them, Brian did the only thing he could think of to stifle Justin; he leaned down to devour his lips with his, his hand working his dick steadily and firmly as they kissed. Rising up slightly, he stopped his hand's motions, long enough to reach over and procure a condom packet he had somehow had the foresight to snag from his jeans pocket, along with a small tube of lube, hurriedly tearing off the top of the paper to take the latex and slide it over his leaking shaft.

Leaning forward, he whispered, "Put your legs on my shoulders," as he gazed into the intense, blue eyes. "I'm going to take you now on the most fucking exciting ride you've ever had," he promised, reaching for the small package of lube on the mattress and popping off the small top to open it.

"Wait," Justin told him breathlessly as he grabbed Brian's wrist to stop him. He heard the brunet groan in frustration as he explained, "I...I just wanted to ask you to go a little easy on me. It's...It's been a while," he added, a little embarrassed. He figured a man like Brian probably had his constant share of willing participants; why would he want to bother with someone like _him?_

But to his surprise, Brian gazed down at him intently before he nodded in understanding. He would never realize how difficult it was for Brian to hold back that night, to not press in up to the hilt to feel the tight silkiness that enveloped him as he generously coated Justin's hole with the slippery gel and pressed slightly inside.

Brian sucked in a breath as he felt Justin's walls clamping down on his cock, surrounding his shaft like a perfectly-formed glove. He had fucked more guys than he could count by this time. But nothing had ever felt like _this. _This was...all-encompassing and exhilarating, like the high he normally got on E or some other boutique drug. He held onto the sides of Justin's slim waist as he slid in further, deeper, their eyes locking together. "Justin...Fuck..." The sensation was incredible.

"Brian," Justin breathed out in a strangled voice, his body tingling all over from the feeling of Brian's thick, long cock firmly embedded in him. He held onto Brian's upper arms for dear life, feeling almost like he was drowning, as Brian stole another kiss from him.

"Move with me, Justin," Brian commanded quietly as he picked up his tempo, feeling Justin's hips rising to meet his thrusts perfectly. "Okay?" he asked as he heard Justin moan loudly beneath him.

But it was a pleasurable sound, not a painful one, as Brian broke through Justin's discomfort and hit that spot that made his lover's body come alive with rapture, as he withdrew and then thrust back in again like a well-oiled machine, both men's voices growing in volume as their desire increased. "Yessssss," Justin moaned in response to Brian's question, lost in a haze of desire. "God, yes, right there," he cried out. "Harder...Oh, fuck..." His fingernails dug so tightly into Brian's biceps that he made the skin turn white; the feelings were almost too much to handle.

Brian was quickly losing control himself; despite his initial intention to take it slow, he couldn't help what was happening. It was all just too delicious, too all-consuming. "Hold on," he growled as he did exactly as Justin asked, pressing in aggressively to the hilt and then pulling back out slightly, ramming almost violently back in as he grunted in exertion. He knew somehow that this man could take it; that he wanted it as much as he did.

Faster and faster they moved, sweat pouring off both their bodies, as no one else and nothing else mattered or existed. Time stood still, precious moments together they knew would be fleeting, as they danced the most sensual dance of all.

Brian could feel his body quickly tightening in the pending throes of passion, their twin moans echoing off the walls of the condo, as he reached down between them to stroke Justin's cock, wanting the younger man to join him in orgasm.

"Uhhhhh," Justin called out, biting his lip to keep from being too loud for fear Gus would hear them. But it was hard, so hard, not to scream out the pleasure invading his body as Brian pounded into him now, and he hung on for dear life.

"That's it," Brian encouraged him as they picked up their pace even more, feeling his balls tightening and his entire body about to explode in passion. "I'm...I'm..." He accelerated his stroking of Justin's cock, his heart racing now and threatening to explode out of his chest, as he cried out one last time and his seed spilled copiously into the condom, just before hearing Justin call out his name one last time and shoot his come across his chest, coating him with the hot, sticky fluid.

Groaning one last time, Brian fell down onto the smaller body, covering him completely as they lay there, spent and sweaty, chests heaving from their coupling, and their hearts beating impossibly fast. Brian could feel Justin's chest heaving up and down beneath him as both of them struggled to regain some semblance of normal breathing.

It was a while before Brian reluctantly pulled out and tied off the condom, slipping off the lithe body and onto his back as he dropped the condom onto the floor beside the bed, his hand dangling over the edge of the mattress as he lay there, exhausted. This young man had nearly worn him out, and had met him parry for parry. _So much for being out of practice_, he thought dryly, as he turned his head to peer over at his lover. Finally regaining the power of speech, all he could muster was one, breathy word: "Wow."

Justin turned his head to peer over at him, his blond hair plastered to his forehead and his body glistening still with sweat from their exertion. "Yeah..." He knew it had been some time since he had had sex with another man, but it still didn't explain what had just happened between them. It was...cosmic on a grand scale. He had no idea what was transpiring here...but fuck, he liked it. A lot.

Impetuously, he reached out his hand to clasp Brian's between them as the two of them continued to lie on their backs, trying to come down from their coupling. Finally, with one, last deep breath, Brian murmured, "I'll be right back," and he slipped out of bed, Justin admiring Brian's retreating form as the brunet walked into the attached bathroom, returning in a minute with a warm hand towel, which he used to wipe Justin and himself off with surprising gentleness. Throwing the towel down into a trashcan by the bed, he turned onto his side as both men instinctively gravitated toward each other, Brian pulling Justin into his arms to cradle him against his body, marveling at how well they fit together.

Brian thought initially that Justin had fallen asleep, until he heard him whisper against his chest, "Your son must have been really worn out tonight." Thankfully, Gus had slept through their whole event.

Brian chuckled as he pulled back to stare into Justin's eyes. "Yeah, I think he was. Good thing, too, because you could have awakened the dead earlier."

Justin huffed indignantly as Brian pulled his lips under playfully. "I seem to recall you joining right in," he told him as Brian grinned back at him. "I wasn't the _only_ one."

Brian smiled at him. "No, I guess you weren't," he agreed congenially. He leaned in to kiss Justin briefly as he stared into his eyes, his expression turning more solemn. "I have to go back home tomorrow," he told him, the reluctance obvious in his voice. Justin wasn't the _only _one who was going to dread tomorrow.

"I know," Justin whispered back to him, his face reflecting his sadness. "When do you have to leave?"

"I have to return the rental car to the Knoxville Airport at ten," he told him as Justin's heart fell. He had hoped they could spend at least part of the day tomorrow together. But he realized that would be impossible. He nodded, trying hard not to show the bitter disappointment on his face. He had grown quite fond of both Brian AND his son in the short time he had known them. He couldn't really explain it exactly; but he knew the thought of never seeing them again - and returning to his mundane life here - seemed terribly lonely now.

"What time do you have to work tomorrow?" Brian asked him quietly, secretly hoping that they could somehow eke just a bit more time together out of their remaining hours before he and Gus had to leave.

But he watched as Justin's face dropped as he replied, "I have to go in for breakfast shift tomorrow. I have to be there by 8." He reached over with his free hand to lay it against Brian's cheek. "You...you won't ever be coming back here...will you? I'll never see you again."

Brian wanted desperately to lie to him, to tell him that they WOULD see each other again, but he couldn't. The odds that he would ever return here were very small. He lived too far away, and his life was much too busy in his home town, to really contemplate returning. And even if Gus DID want to come back some day, he figured it would be a long time before that happened. His son was constantly wanting to explore places he had never seen; soon, this place would just be a distant memory to him, and he would be trying to cajole his father into going somewhere new to investigate on their next adventure together. So he did the only honorable thing he thought he could do, the thing he felt that he owed Justin: he told him the truth, unvarnished and straightforward.

He shook his head. "No...I probably won't," he told him simply as Justin nodded, his heart breaking at the thought. He didn't realize that Brian was feeling much the same way, although he was too proud to admit it.

Pulling Justin closer to his body, he whispered, "Get some sleep." He felt Justin nod his head against him, feeling his regular breathing several seconds later, indicating he had, indeed, fallen asleep. It would be several more minutes, however, before Brian could join him, his mind swirling with too many questions, and his heart heavy with too much regret and 'what could have beens' to allow him to sleep.

The next morning - when the sun's rays began to warm his face, causing his eyes to flutter open with the first moments of consciousness - he didn't need but a second to realize that Justin had already left, the bed feeling decidedly cold and alien to him in the garish, morning light that seemed to mock him. Sighing heavily, he forced himself out of bed and shuffled off to the bathroom, turning on the shower to begin his day that would culminate in him and his son returning back to the world where he truly belonged - a world that would be devoid of a certain person in his life that he hadn't even known before, but now couldn't imagine being without.

As he heard his son calling out to him upon exiting the shower a few minutes later, however, he knew for his sake he had to try. First, though, there was one more thing he had to do.

Chapter End Notes:

_Thank you for reading! It is much appreciated. Hope you continue to enjoy it. More in a couple of days.;) _


	5. For the Love of a Friend

_Daphne puts the wheels in motion to help Justin achieve his dream - not knowing what else Fate may have in store for him. _

_10:30 a.m. - Sit-A-Spell Restaurant_

"Will you stop with the melodramatic sighing? I swear, if I hear that coming from your lips one more time, Justin Taylor, I'm going to sew them shut!" Daphne hissed under her breath as they stood leaning against the back of the restaurant, taking their morning break. She felt sorry for her friend - truly - but the hang-dog look was starting to wear thin.

Earlier this morning, Justin had woke up her inadvertently when he had tried to slip back into their apartment after being gone all night. Fortunately, he had at least had the forethought to send her a text around midnight, telling her not to worry if he didn't come home. Of course, it did not take a rocket scientist to figure out the reason why, since she knew he was spending the day with the gorgeous man and his son who had been in the restaurant a few days earlier. She had been positively giddy at the thought that finally, her friend was going to have a little fun for a change and just relax. And his frequent texts to her earlier in the day seemed to substantiate her feeling, since they had been filled with lots of "LOL's," exclamation points, and happy faces to punctuate his messages. It was obvious Justin was having a grand time, and that photo he had sent her of him, Brian, and Gus dressed out in full desperado gear had been the icing on the cake, making her laugh out loud. She had been so happy for him.

Now, though, she knew his wonderful day spent with the father and son had merely served to drag him down into the dumps again, since he had informed her that they had to return back home today. She hadn't truly realized until then just how smitten Justin was with the other man - and, she suspected - with his son, too. All his talk had been "Brian this" and "Gus that." She knew he was wonderful with children - always going out of his way to accommodate them and entertain them with whimsical, spur-of-the-moment drawings when they came to the restaurant to eat - but she thought he had developed an unusually strong attachment to this particular child, perhaps in light of not only his relation to Brian, but also having nearly suffered a tragedy when he had almost choked that day on his meal. Whatever the case, all she knew was that he was quite disconsolate over both of them leaving, and she felt helpless as to what to do. That didn't mean, though, that she wanted him wallowing in self-pity like he was now. Justin was much too talented, intelligent, funny, and beautiful (inside and out) to let that happen. There would be other men come along; he just couldn't see that at the moment.

She sighed as he gave her an apologetic look. She reached over to briefly squeeze his shoulder as she told him, "Look, I know you're feeling bad about them leaving. But there'll be others, Justin, trust me."

"Not like him," he murmured as he shook his head slowly. It had been SO hard for him to leave Brian's bed this morning, and the warmth of his arms that had surrounded him for much of the night. The sex had been fantastic, almost too incredible to adequately put into words. He _had_ confided in Daphne about that, at least in rather cryptic words. But what he didn't tell her was that it wasn't just the amazing sex that made him feel this way; it was being in Brian's company, sharing their thoughts and experiences...just _living. _The time spent with the other man and his son had made him feel alive for the first time in a long time. He hadn't felt this way since before his father had kicked him out of his childhood home a few years ago. And he had felt so _happy_. Now, however, it was all dashed to pieces. Being with Brian's son, too, had reminded him of good memories of times he had spent with his younger sister, whom he used to play with and who he missed terribly. When he had finally worked up the nerve at 17 to finally tell his father that he was gay, he had reacted so vociferously to his confession that he had given him an ultimatum: either submit to 'conversion therapy' at the local church they attended so they could 'heal' him...or find another place to live. His father would not - in his words - allow someone with such a deviant lifestyle to live in the same household as his younger sister and corrupt her with his vile morality.

Unable to accept his father's demand - and with his mother unable or unwilling to defend him adequately, no matter HOW much she loved him - he was left with no choice then but to move in with Daphne temporarily until he turned 18 and graduated from high school a few months later. He would forever be grateful to her and her family for taking him in, feeding him, and essentially supporting him during that period. Thankfully, his parents had already been required to pay the last quarter's tuition at his private school in upstate Pennsylvania, or he probably would not have been able to finish out his senior year.

After graduating - a lonely, bitter time when he had missed his mother and sister most of all - he had decided that he needed a change in his life, a new horizon, a new start. So despite Daphne's parents' doubts, and admonishment that it would be hard to make a living at their age, he and Daphne had decided to set out in her used, rather beat-up van for parts unknown. Their initial intention was to drive south toward Florida and a warmer climate, with Daphne hoping to enroll in a pre-med program somewhere on scholarship due to her excellent grades, while Justin found a reputable, prestigious art school somewhere nearby. He, too, would try for a scholarship, although he suspected with his parents' considerable income, he would probably be unsuccessful.

So with high hopes and perhaps a little foolish stardust in their veins, they had set out as two pioneers seeking fame and fortune - only to get so far as southern Tennessee where Daphne's not-so-faithful van had broken down on the side of I-75. If it had not been for the kindness of some strangers who had stopped to offer them a lift into town, Justin doesn't know WHAT would have happened. As it was, the mechanic had advised Daphne (once they had towed the van to the nearest gas station), that it would cost her the equivalent of a few thousand dollars to get a new engine put into the van, which was the only solution to getting back on the road again.

Unable to afford the considerable, unexpected cost - and too proud to contact Daphne's parents and (heaven forbid) his own to ask for some money, they had opted, instead, to sell the van for scrap and hitch a ride to the nearby tourist mecca of the Great Smokies to find employment for a while in hopes of eventually saving up enough to purchase another decent, used car that would allow them to continue onto their destination further south.

Two years later, however, despite their best efforts, they were merely managing to get by month after month after paying their bills, food, and gas. It was not the life that Justin had dreamed about or anticipated, but it WAS their reality; a reality that he couldn't change for the indefinite future. Losing Brian, then, only made it even more painful.

Daphne couldn't help feeling sorry for her friend. _Wow, he must have fallen hard for THIS one..._ She had never seen Justin mope around so much. "Well, if that's the case, then can't the two of you maybe maintain some type of long-distance relationship? I mean, until you can see each other in person again."

Justin sighed again. "Sorry," he quickly mumbled as Daphne flashed him a 'w_hat did I tell you?' _sort of look. "But I don't even know where he lives - or have his phone number."

She eyed him with astonishment. "You don't?"

Justin shook his head.

"Why in the world not? Neither one of them ever came up in conversation? You never got his phone number, or found out where he lives? Justin!"

He eyed her helplessly. "No! I mean, we talked about what he does - he owns some advertising agency somewhere in the Northeast, I think." He thought back through all of their conversations as he admitted, "And I never found out what his last name was." He shook his head in disgust. "Do you believe that?"

"Well, that IS a little hard to believe," she concurred. "But maybe you were too busy doing _other _things with your mouth to ask," she teased him.

"Daphne, this ISN'T funny!" Justin insisted, not seeing anything humorous at all in his situation. "And I'll have you know we only had sex once. Although, we did kiss a lot," he added, his face turning red as he thought just how those kisses had made him feel. The man certainly knew how to kiss; so much so that the kisses were _almost_ as good as the fucking had been. ALMOST. "And we talked a lot, too."

"Uh, huh," she replied with a grin. She sighed now as she noticed how miserable Justin looked. "Look, you know where he was staying. Couldn't you try and call the place and see if they would give you his last name? Make something up, like you left something in his condo like your wallet, and you REALLY need to retrieve it."

"I tried that. I called there about an hour ago, and was told Room 315 had already checked out, and the maid had cleaned the room and found nothing. They wouldn't give me any other information about him; they said it was _confidential,_" he added, emphasizing the last word as if it were extremely distasteful.

Justin slid down the wall and plopped down dejectedly into a sitting position, Daphne soon joining him as they peered out into the grove of trees that abutted the back of the property. "I'm so sorry, Justin," she whispered sympathetically. "I didn't realize how much you cared for him until now. Maybe he'll be back one day. You never know."

But Justin shook his head. "I don't think so, Daphne. He doesn't belong here, and he sounds so busy and important. Why would he want to?"

Daphne's eyes flashed. "Justin Taylor, quit short changing yourself! You're a wonderful person! Funny, intelligent, artistic, compassionate..."

Justin turned his head to peer over at her, one side of his mouth lifting into a smile as he replied, "You forgot hot."

She hit him on the arm and laughed, relieved that she at last was seeing at least a partial smile from him. "You flattery slut!" she remarked as she smacked him on the arm. Justin couldn't help grinning back at her now as she agreed, "Okay. Hot, too." Her smile diminished a bit as she added softly, "You are, Justin. You're beautiful inside AND out. And if this Brian 'what's-his-name' doesn't realize that, then it's HIS loss."

Justin reached over to grip her hand in his, so grateful for this young woman's help and support. "Thanks, Daph," he murmured gratefully as his eyes lifted to stare into hers and he smiled. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

She smiled back at him. "Well, I AM pretty indispensable," she replied smugly as he rolled his eyes. She twisted her wrist, just enough to look at the time and sighed. "Back to the grind," she advised him as she stood up and pulled him up alongside her. "Come on."

"Daphne?"

"Hmm?"

"How about we take the bus into Gatlinburg after we get off?"

She shrugged. "That'd be okay, I guess. Any particular reason?"

Justin stared straight ahead, watching the thick blanket of trees sway in the wind. "Yeah," he told her as he continued to fix his sight on something that was in his heart, rather than in his physical line of vision. "I'd like to ride the sky lift up to the top of the mountain and look at the view."

Daphne frowned, knowing there was more to Justin's wish than he was revealing. But she didn't think it was wise to question him about it at the moment, so instead she nodded. "Sure," she told him with a smile as he turned to her and nodded.

Taking Justin by the hand, she opened the back door as the two of them disappeared inside.

* * *

><p><em>One Week Later - Pittsburgh - Offices of Kinnetik<em>

Brian absentmindedly twirled his Montblanc pen in his hand as he sat at his desk. His laptop was open to a page of research on his newest acquisition target - a security alarm company by the name of Steel Trap, a homage to Pittsburgh's nickname as the Steel City - but his mind was occupied elsewhere. Actually, to his consternation, he had found his mind returning to the same place over and over again for the past week: to a certain, beautiful, creative, and slightly mischievous blond he had only known for a few days.

As he slid open his top right-hand drawer, however, and peered down at the photo staring back up at him, he couldn't help smiling in recollection. It was almost a distant memory now; that day. Not only was his son back up in Canada for the time being, but the man who had fascinated him so deeply in such a short time was out of his reach, too.

Oh, he could contact him easily enough, he supposed, even though he didn't have his cell number. He knew where he worked - in that dreadfully hokey, country restaurant. But was that wise? What would it prove? What good would it do, either? He didn't think he would ever go back to that place again. And there was no way their paths would ever cross professionally speaking. So he shouldn't dwell on it anymore...right? He had a lot more important things to take care of at the moment, like winning this multi-million dollar account. And he _would_ be successful; there was no question of it.

Taking a deep breath - not realizing what it signified - he forced himself to turn his attention back to the business at hand; not wanting to focus on what his heart was so desperately missing.

* * *

><p><em>Four Months Later...Daphne and Justin's Apartment<em>

"Justin? You home?" Daphne glanced around the shared space, noting the quiet. Justin had mentioned earlier that he would stop after his shift to grab some groceries - it being his month to use part of his paycheck to pay for them - so he must not have arrived home yet.

Dropping her keys down onto the small table situated next to the door, she took a moment to grab a cold bottle of water from the fridge before walking over to their worn but still quite usable couch, upholstered in shades of brown, cream, and green. The velour fabric would not have been her choice, but the cost had been quite attractive when they had found it at the local thrift shop, and they had offered to deliver it. So it had served them quite well, considering.

As she sat down and reached for the remote lying on the coffee table in front of her, her eyes fell upon her roommate's sketchbook that Justin carried everywhere; well, everywhere except for work. She knew he spent a great deal of time (when he had it), sitting on the back porch overlooking their view of the Smokies, lost in thought as he sketched the latest scene that had caught his mind's eye. As she flipped open the pages, she noticed he had sketched several new ones. "Oh, Justin," she murmured sadly, her eyes glistening with sorrow as she noticed it was the same subject he had been sketching for months now: a certain, handsome brunet man and his son. She had to admit - they were amazingly detailed sketches, and so true-to-life. Even though she hadn't accompanied them during their time together, she recognized several of the locales, and knew how authentic in detail Justin had made them. "You need to move on, and forget him."

Daphne sighed as she slowly closed the book. Yes, Justin had 'moved on,' at least in a way. He mechanically went through the motions each day of working, doing his job impeccably as he always had. In fact, both of them had received a small raise in the past month due to their excellent service to the restaurant's customers, and the manager was even talking about possibly making Justin a 'head server' in charge of other wait staff. But Daphne knew that Justin's heart wasn't in a restaurant career. His passion lay with his art, and their interrupted journey had definitely stymied that plan. Did that mean that Justin had to stay stagnant where he was, however? Surely there was SOME solution. Justin was much too talented to let his creativity go to waste. Drawing cartoon characters on disposable placemats for children did NOT constitute an 'art career.'

Biting her lip in thought, she reached to grab her laptop, flipping it open and starting it up. Clicking on her browser, she quickly got to work.

* * *

><p><em>A Month Later...<em>

"Daphne! Oh, my God! Get in here!"

Daphne about jumped out of her wooden chair on the back patio as Justin screeched at her. "What? Are you okay?" she asked as she hurried inside through the open door. Their landlord frowned on them leaving the door open when the heating or air conditioning was running, but it had turned quite chilly for the end of July, especially up in the higher elevation where they lived, so they presently had the system completely turned off. Both of them enjoyed the moderate temperatures when they could just throw open the windows and enjoy the cool breeze from the thousands of trees that stretched out in front of them as far as the eye could see.

As Daphne rushed inside, she stopped dead in her tracks. Justin was clutching a sheet of paper in his hand, and a large, brown envelope in the other, white as a ghost. "You're scaring me, Justin. What IS it?"

"I...I...don't understand," her friend finally stammered, his mouth hung open in stunned shock.

"What?" she pressed, her brow narrowed with concern. "What is it? Is it from your parents?"

Justin snorted. "Yeah...right." They both knew that was next to impossible; besides, Daphne could tell it was an official-looking business envelope of some kind. He finally gave up trying to formulate intelligible speech as he simply said, "here," and thrust the letter at her.

Daphne took it from his hand and unfolded it to read the contents, immediately noticing the top of the letterhead: _Pittsburgh Institute of Fine Arts, Office of Financial Aid. _Her eyes grew large and her heart began to pound in excitement as she read the contents:

_Dear Mr. Taylor:_

_It is with great pleasure that we announce you are the recipient of our Fred Livingston Artistic Endowment Award this year, based upon the credentials you previously submitted. This award, generously funded by a posthumous grant from the Fred Livingston Foundation, will provide you with a full scholarship for entry to the Pittsburgh Institute of Fine Arts. The specifics are described in detail in the accompanying paperwork. Please read all the information carefully to familiarize yourself with the procedure to redeem your scholarship._

_We were highly impressed with both your scholastic achievements, as well as your creative talent. Welcome to our institution! We look forward to meeting you, and expect great things from you in the future._

_Sincerely,_

_Grace Kellerman,_

_Financial Aid Director_

Daphne's face lit up with a joy that almost rivalled her friend's surprise as a huge smile broke out on her face. "Shit! Congratulations, Justin!" she screamed as she grabbed him and swung him around, both of them doing a little jig of jubilation. That is, until Justin realized something and quickly came back down to earth.

Breaking away from his friend, he told her sadly, "This had got to be a mistake, Daphne. They must have me mixed up with someone else. I didn't _apply_ there!"

"But it was one of the schools you always said you wanted to go to," she pointed out cautiously.

"I know. But I never had the chance to apply anywhere, remember? After the van broke down, I never thought it would do any good." He gazed down at the letter Daphne had handed back to him, still flummoxed. "I never thought about applying for any grants, anyway."

"Why not?" She asked him, not yet willing to confess what she had done. Inside, though, her heart was doing somersaults of happiness for her friend. This was the most exhilaration she had seen from Justin in a long time; the most happiness since that man, Brian, had gone back home and taken his son - and Justin's heart - with him.

Justin shrugged. "I never really thought I would have a chance. Do you know how many students apply for admittance in these places, let alone obtain a full ride to them?" He shook his head. "No, this can't be right." He sighed. "I'd better call them and tell them they made some kind of mistake. Damn." His shoulders sagging, he reached inside his jeans pocket to retrieve his cell phone. He was about to press the buttons to dial the number when Daphne interrupted him.

"Justin, wait! No, it's NOT a mistake. It really IS for you."

Justin frowned at her, totally perplexed. "Daphne, what are you talking about?"

She sighed. It was time to confess. "I sent in the information _for_ you; about a month ago. I sent an application to that school, as well as three other schools you always told me you were interested in, including that one down in Tampa - along with a portfolio of your work as an email attachment." Justin had constantly dreamed about attending the Tampa Art Institute, among others. It would have been nice to spend time lying on the beach in between their classes, Daphne conceded, if he had been awarded a scholarship there. And there was a prestigious pre-med program nearby, as well. It would have been perfect. But for whatever reason, this school in Pennsylvania had been the only one to properly recognize Justin for the amazing talent that he was, and she had a backup plan for herself. For now, Justin's happiness and his future was more important to her.

Justin stared at her in astonishment. "You did _what_?!"

"You heard me." She smiled at him. "I knew you wouldn't do it for yourself, so I did it FOR you. So don't you see? It IS for you! Justin, don't you understand? You've won a full grant to go to art school! That's what you've always wanted! I know it's not exactly the place we wanted to live...but there's always spring break, and the summer..."

Justin stared down at the paper, reading it and rereading it until his brain finally registered that this was NOT a trick or a fake; it was REAL. The scholarship even included room and board, all his required textbooks, and yes, even a generous allowance for art supplies he would need. It was almost too much to comprehend. He stared over at Daphne, who smiled back at him wistfully.

"I...I don't know what to say, Daph," he whispered, his voice choking. "You did this all for ME?"

She grinned. "Well, for me, too. I was getting sick of you being in the doldrums all the time! Do you realize this is the first time you've really smiled since..." Her voice trailed off, afraid she was dredging up bad memories. But to her relief, Justin's eyes were shining with excitement as she smiled back at him. "That's why I did it," she murmured sincerely. "I want you to be happy, Justin. That's all that matters. And I want everyone to discover what a wonderful talent you have."

"But what about you?" he asked her. What about _your _dreams and hopes?" He sighed as reality hit him again. "How will I even get up there? I mean, I don't have much here that's worth even taking, but I have a few things I would want. We don't even have a car..."

"Yes, we do," she told him to his great surprise. "I mean, we will," she explained. "Just as soon as we find a decent used one in town."

He frowned, wondering how many surprises he could handle at one time. "What? How? Unless you're hiding a huge wad of cash in a mattress somewhere, we don't HAVE any extra money for something like that. Otherwise, you'd have fixed up the old van."

Daphne averted her gaze, uncomfortable. She _had_ promised herself she would tell Justin the whole truth...

Her look of discomfort didn't go unnoticed by her friend. "Daphne?" he probed quietly as he stared over at her. At last, she turned her gaze to look at him.

"I...I contacted my parents and asked them to loan me enough money to buy a used car. When they found out I was coming back home to stay - they were only too happy to do it."

Justin eyed her, dumbfounded. "You...You're going back to live with your parents? I thought you wanted to break things off with them, to live independently? You told me they were always trying to treat you like a kid." Justin would always be extremely grateful for Daphne's mom and dad taking him in when he needed some place to stay; they had almost become surrogate parents to him during that awful time. But he also had enough first-hand knowledge to know that they worried constantly about their only child, and as a result they were highly protective of her. It had about killed them when Daphne had moved out, and to this day they continually texted her, called her on the phone, and emailed her to make sure she was okay. The only thing that didn't make them drive down here frequently to check up on her was the fact that they knew he was rooming with her, and they knew he would watch out for her. But moving back in with them seemed like a distinctive step back. "Daphne, you can't do that," he told her quietly.

She sighed, her lips pressed together in determination. "Yes, I can." She told him resolutely. "It'll only be temporary," she reassured him. "It's only until I can find a pre-med school and live on campus." She snorted. "You don't think I would stay there, permanently, do you? I thought you knew me better than that!"

Justin laughed. "I do. That's why I asked." His face turned more serious as he added, "You're not doing this for you, Daphne. Shit. You're doing this for ME." He shook his head, still trying to absorb what was happening. "I still can't believe you did this. My God. You know what this means to me."

Daphne nodded, her eyes glistening with tears. She was so happy for Justin. But at the same time, she was going to miss him terribly. She would have to look into pre-med schools around Pittsburgh. "I know," she whispered as Justin walked closer and pulled her into a fierce hug. "Daphne..." he murmured, choking up. "I'm so excited about this...but I'm also afraid," he confessed as he clung to her. "What will I do without you?"

The two pulled back to stare into each other's eyes. They had been there for each other since they were kindergartners. Through good times and bad, thick and thin, when things were easy and when they were impossibly difficult. Justin couldn't imagine her not being there to confide in, or to tell his most secret thoughts to. Daphne was like his security blanket, his ballast when his life threatened to topple him over into an endless abyss, and his cheerleader when he was uncertain of the path his life was taking, and when he questioned his abilities. How would he go on, then, without her?

Daphne smiled through her own tears. "Justin, you're such a strong person. Look what you've already been through, and what you have survived! You will be just fine. You hear me? Don't you EVER doubt that!" She sniffled as she wiped her eyes with her left hand. "Besides, don't think you're getting rid of me THAT easily. I will be sending you texts, emails, and calling you until you can't stand it anymore. After all, my parents taught me well." She grimaced. "Forget I said that."

Justin couldn't help laughing at her expression. "I'll _never_ grow tired of that, Daph," he told her softly. Taking a deep breath, he blew it out between partly-open lips as he told her, "I will never forget what you did for me. All of it. And don't think you will get rid of ME, either," he warned her. "I plan on being the man of honor at your wedding, and I fully expect you to name your first child after me - AND for me to be the kid's godfather, too..._Doctor._"

Daphne smacked him on the arm with a giggle. "Oh, you are SO full of yourself!" she exclaimed as he grinned back at her. She reached over to give him a quick kiss on the cheek. "Come on," she urged him as she disentangled herself from his embrace and grabbed his hand. "We have a car to buy."

Chapter End Notes:

_Again, thank you for reading this story, and for all the comments! I appeciate that so much. Next part will be up in a couple of days. Thanks for _


	6. Frustration

_Brian finds that he has some business competition...and he doesn't like to lose. _

_June of the following year..._

Justin gripped his hands tightly in his lap, his messenger bag slung across his shoulder as he waited in the elegantly appointed lobby area of one of Pittsburgh's newest entertainment companies - a conglomerate by the name of Starlight Betting Systems. The company, new to the area but quite extensive in its holdings across the country, was seeking an advertising agency to handle their print and broadcast ads for two new gambling centers they would be opening up on the west and east sides of town. Now that the state had recently approved in-house gambling, it had been just a matter of time before one of the large betting companies won a contract to build facilities to sponsor them, and Starlight had been the lucky recipient for the two open spots in the Pitts.

Justin glanced over at the two suited men sitting next to him. He was there as an intern for one of the biggest and most successful ad agencies in town - a company by the name of StrataG. StrataG was comprised of mainly young, trendy, aspiring employees, and he enjoyed the vibe and confidence the company projected. In addition, StrataG had a co-op agreement with PIFA to employ several interns during the course of their studies. Justin, being a freshman, had been astounded, as well as a bit proud, to be selected for one of the positions to be filled during his summer break. At first he worked with them for one day a week while he was finishing up his first semester, helping with odd jobs for the most part - copying, setting up print boards for meetings, and coloring in artwork already done by the house artists employed there. But he was soon upgraded to an art assistant once he was able to work for them full-time during the summer, and once they determined how creative and talented he was (their words, not his.) So now he was working alongside some of their full-time employees, albeit in a fairly subordinate capacity. They always treated his suggestions and ideas with respect, however, and he looked forward each day to going to work there, currently finding himself a part of the actual presenting team for the agency's potential client this morning.

He smiled to himself, despite his nervousness. When he had found out that Daphne had managed to secure a grant for him at PIFA, he never in his wildest dreams thought that only a few months later, barely out of his first semester, he would be working alongside seasoned veterans in a high-volume ad agency in a large city. Yes, it was only a co-op position while he was a student. But a lot of PIFA's students had used their co-op experiences to secure an actual position in their field afterward, and while he wasn't sure this was quite the career he had imagined as an artist, he still thought this would be invaluable to him on his resume down the road.

"StrataG Team?" A young, elegant-looking blond woman asked the trio as she walked over to them. The lead of the team - a somewhat brash but up-and-coming, 30-ish, dark-haired man with glasses by the name of Kent Boyd - nodded.

"Yes, that's us," he told her as she nodded back at him.

"Come with me, please," she instructed the three men as they all stood up to follow her down the hall. Justin clung tightly to the messenger bag containing the print boards they would be using to hopefully win over the client. He knew they were some of the best artwork he had ever done - having been intimately involved in their creation, since the idea had been his - but he _also_ had heard that Starlight would be listening to a representation from another big player in town - a progressive ad agency by the name of Kinnetik. He didn't know much about the other company; just what Kent had told him. But he had gleaned enough from the other man to know they could be formidable competition. Well, theirs was better; of that he was very confident. Now all they had to do was prove it.

* * *

><p>As they neared a set of double doors, Justin's heart began to pound in anxiety as well as anticipation. He was all too aware of how important this presentation was, and while he would not really be actively participating in any of the actual campaign being pitched to Starlight today, he <em>would<em> be responsible for placing the boards on the easels provided, and seeing that the material was distributed to all company executives, including the CEO and President himself, an older man in his 60's by the name of Glen Marcum, whose father had founded the company over eighty years ago.

Before the CEO's assistant could open the doors, she turned to face them and advise, "Mr. Marcum wants the other competing ad agency to wait in our smaller conference room next door. He wants both groups available immediately, since he plans on making his decision on representation as soon as both presentations have been made. So he would like for your group to remain after your presentation is over."

Justin and the two others exchanged a surprised look; that was highly irregular. But all of them, Justin included, had been taught the old adage of "Whatever the client wants, the client gets," so they all nodded at her as the woman swung the doors open and held one of them for the three men to enter.

An impressive-looking, wooden, oval-shaped table dominated the middle of the large conference room, each chair occupied by important members of the Starlight Entertainment Corporation. A man, who by his authoritarian nature and place at the head of the table, had to be Glen Marcum, sat there, leaning back in his chair as he smoked a squat-looking stogie. He was wearing a gray, pin-striped, designer suit and crisp, white shirt; gold cufflinks in the shape of dice adorned each sleeve. He peered over at the three new visitors curiously, making Justin start sweating even more than he already had been.

"You gentleman from StrataG?" he asked them, one perfectly manicured eyebrow raised as he stared them down unflinchingly. If he was trying to make Justin uncomfortable, he was doing a damn good job of it. He swallowed, feeling like a small guppy lying in wait for the whale to swallow him whole. He knew the artwork he had done for the print and broadcast ads were good, _very_ good, in fact. But they were only as good as the advertising pitch that went with it. Would it be enough? Would their team lead, Kent Boyd, be persuasive enough against what was apparently a very formidable competitor?

To his credit, Kent nodded in response, walking confidently over to the CEO and extending his hand. "Yes, sir. I'm Kent Boyd, the advertising representative for your campaign. These are my colleagues, Sam Ryerson and Justin Taylor."

Marcum nodded, his eyes sizing up the younger man and even younger colleagues. "You think you have what it takes to handle our advertising, boy?" He asked him dubiously.

Kent plastered on a smile, forcing himself to overlook the man's patronizing attitude. "I _know_ we do."

_Way to go, Kent_, Justin murmured to himself. He knew the man had to be as nervous as he and Sam were. Sam was a relatively new, full-time employee to the company, and wasn't much older than he was. He had confided in him on the way over that this was the biggest potential client campaign he had ever worked on, and he was scared to death that he was going to fuck it up. Well, that made two of them. But Kent looked cool as a cucumber at the moment.

Marcum peered over at the trio for several seconds, the room so quiet a pin could drop, until at last he nodded his head. "Okay," he told them as he took a big puff of his cigar. "Let's see what you've got, then."

* * *

><p><em>Same Time - Adjunct Conference Room<em>

Brian pinched the bridge of his nose in irritation, feeling a twinge of a migraine threatening to rear its ugly head. He peered over at his comptroller-turned-advertising man, who was pacing slowly back and forth around the room like a lion in a cement cage. "Theodore, will you _please_ stop that before you wear a hole in the carpet?"

Ted looked over at his boss sheepishly. "Sorry," he mumbled. "But, come on! Aren't you just a little nervous?" he asked, his voice rising with enthusiasm. "This would be the biggest account Kinnetik has ever landed! Don't tell me you're not just a _little_ excited! Do you know how enormous their holdings are?" Brian stared over at him in insult. "Oh, yeah. Of course you would," Ted hastily amended. "You'e the _king_ of research."

"Damn straight I am," Brian growled. He knew all too well how important this client would be for their bottom line. He had launched Kinnetik a couple of years ago, starting out with just a handful of employees, including Ted and Cynthia, who he had stolen from his previous employer. Now he had a total of 65 employees, spurred by a phenomenal growth rate the past two years; a rate that had been attained through hours of hard work, skill, shrewd expertise, and talent. Not just _his_ talent - and _his_ contacts from his previous employer - but the talents of all his subordinates that were initially screened very carefully by his capable assistant for possible hiring, and then further scrutinized by yours truly to make sure Kinnetik only employed the most innovative and talented individuals in their field. So he was confident that their sales pitch today was the best one that could have been put together. Just like the client it was meant to serve, it was progressive, trendy, and very dynamic. Normally, their competition wouldn't stand a chance.

But this wasn't just _any _competitor - this was StrataG, a company that had started (literally) in some dreamer's basement as a one-man operation ten years ago, and had steadily grown to be the top advertising agency in Pittsburgh. And for good reason. They, too, strove to only hire the best, and their reputation attracted a lot of the top candidates to their fold. He had heard a rumor, too, about some new artist they were employing that had shaken things up, and injected some fresh, creative talent into their presentations. He suspected strongly that whoever this person was, he or she no doubt would have had a strong hand in their campaign being pitched to the client today. So while he would never admit it to Ted - or any other employee of his - he _was _just a teensy-weensy bit apprehensive about the outcome of their endeavor today. Well, maybe a little _more_ than 'teensy-weensy.'

He sighed as he noticed Ted now fiddling with the vertical blind controls, pulling one side of the cord up and then the other. "Will you PLEASE sit the fuck down?" he ordered him, as Ted, being a smart man and realizing a good thing when he saw it, quickly nodded and shuffled over to sit next to him at the conference table, their promotional materials stacked neatly on top of each other. They had been told to wait here while the other company presented their ideas to the client, since Marcum wanted to make a decision immediately. It was somewhat unorthodox for a client to do this, but not entirely unheard of.

Brian took a deep breath, the headache still barely under the surface, and then glared over at his companion, who was now drumming his fingers on the table. Ted quickly snatched his hand off the table, made a zipping motion across his lips, and clasped his hands in his lap as Brian rolled his eyes, wondering when the other company's sales pitch would be ending. It seemed like they had been in this smaller conference room for hours, when it reality he knew it was only for about 60 minutes.

Finally, the doors swung open leading into the large conference room; several voices could be heard from the other end as Brian peered up at the same, blonde-haired assistant who had first ushered them in from the main lobby.

"Gentlemen, Mr. Marcum would like to see you," she told them as she stared over at them expectantly. Exchanging a look between them, Brian and Ted rose from their seats to join her. Stepping out into the adjacent, larger conference room, Brian caught glimpse of Marcum shaking hands with first one man, and then two others as they began to filter out of the room; there was a big smile on the CEO's face, almost as if it were mocking them. _What the fuck?_ Surely that didn't mean...

A flash of bright, blond, slightly shaggy hair - belonging to one of the men whose back was to him - diverted his attention briefly as he frowned, thinking there was something oddly familiar about him. The man was of slim build, with a portfolio bag slung diagonally over his shoulder. But the momentary feeling was fleeting and quickly forgotten as Marcum bid them goodbye and turned around to head in Brian's direction, clearing his throat as if he were about to deliver a eulogy at a funeral. Perhaps he was - _his_ funeral.

As if echoing his thoughts Ted leaned in to whisper, "This doesn't look good." Brian turned to scowl at him, but he couldn't help the lead feeling in the pit of his stomach, and the intuition that Ted might be right.

* * *

><p>A few minutes later, his worst fears were realized: they had lost the multi-million dollar account to their competitor; their competitor, and a young, talented, artist that Marcum couldn't stop praising for his inventiveness, unorthodox ideas, and amazing creativity. By the time Marcum was done lavishly lauding the young man like he was the next Peter Max, Brian was not only completely frustrated and a bit resentful, but also determined to steal whoever this person was for his <em>own<em> company. Now all he had to do was figure out who he was, and go after him.

* * *

><p><em>Later that Day...<em>

"Come on, Will! You owe me." Brian fumed silently on the phone. This guy obtained his job at StrataG due to his personal intervention. If it hadn't been for him giving the guy a good reference to the head of HR at the other company, he would have never gotten his foot in the door. Will Palmer had worked with him at Ryder's Agency before moving out of state. When he had returned a few months ago, Brian did not have any space at his agency for a new hire, but he had gone to bat for him for the other company, taking the time to write up a personal reference when no one else could be found at the now-defunct company. Since Ryder had retired, his company had sunk faster than a lead pellet in a glass of water. The guy wasn't even that talented; he was just a consummate schmoozer. Brian had actually been relieved, then, that he hadn't had a job opening, because the guy was mainly dead ballast. But now he needed him. "I'm waiting, Palmer..." he pressed the other guy.

"Why are you so interested?" he asked curiously. He knew exactly who the guy was that Brian was so interested in. And knowing Brian's drive and competitive nature, he suspected he knew WHY he wanted to know. He valued his job; and if word got out that he had indirectly caused someone that talented to jump ship and join a competitor - especially someone as formidable as Kinnetik - his own job might very well be on the line, too.

"That's none of your concern," was the terse response. "Just give me his fucking name. That's all I need. I'll take it from there."

Will sighed. "Look, I appreciate what you did for me, Kinney..."

Brian rolled his eyes; he knew what was coming. "But..."

"...but I need this job. I know what you're up to. You either want to fuck this guy...or you want to steal him out from under us. Or both."

_Hmmm...talented AND apparently fuckable, too. A good combination... _"So?"

"So I can't be responsible for us losing the guy who almost single-handedly landed the Starlight Account. From what I heard, Marcum seems to think he can do no wrong; like he's reading his mind. I'm not going to jeopardize that, or risk my job, not matter _how _grateful I am."

_Little shit; he WOULD pick now to grow a pair... _Brian took a deep breath as he rubbed his hand through his hair in agitation. "You wouldn't want me to retract what I said in your reference, would you? I think I'm beginning to remember some not-so-complimentary details about your work ethics while on the job..." Palmer loved to play the ponies - and watch a little porn - on Ryder's dime. Since the man's work - or lack thereof - didn't really impact HIM, at the time he didn't give a shit. Now, though, he thought he could use that to his advantage. "Still love to ogle the ladies, Palmer? What was that website again? _ ?" _

"You...Brian...I..." Palmer sputtered. "Shit."

Brian smirked.

"Okay, okay. Look, I still won't give you his name."

Brian opened his mouth to vehemently protest as Palmer continued.

"...But I CAN tell you that he's attends PIFA part-time while he's interning here."

Brian's mouth gaped open. _The artistic genius that Marcum thought rivaled the greatest of pop icons was a fucking STUDENT? _"Let me get this straight. He's a student?"

"Yeah," Palmer confirmed, lowering his voice as if he might be overheard. "He's a co-op intern. He was working here one day a week while he was in school, but right now he's here every day while he's on summer break." He paused for a moment, as if he were mulling over something, before he told him, "He goes to lunch every day at the same place. He's so predictable about it, I could set my GPS by him."

Brian smiled. _Good enough._ "Where?"

Palmer sighed, knowing the best artist they had would probably soon be a thing of the past. He just prayed that word didn't get back as to how they lost him, or HE would lose HIS job, too. "Delmonico's on 31st Street."

Brian nodded. "What time?"

"Brian, I have to..."

"What _time_, Palmer?" he repeated, his deadly calm voice leaving no question that he WOULD get what he wanted. "You'll miss your daily tit show if you don't hurry up."

Palmer let out a deep breath of defeat. "12:30."

"Say hi to the little woman for me, Palmer," Brian told him, finding it difficult to hide his glee. He could almost FEEL his victory. "And go have another cup of coffee on me." He didn't wait for the other man to say anything in dismissal, as he flipped his phone shut, glancing down at his small desk clock. Hurriedly rising from his chair, he quickly slipped on his suit jacket and grabbed his car keys.

Cynthia looked up in surprise as her boss came walking up to her desk. "I didn't remember you had an appointment now, Brian."

"I don't," he told her. "I'm going to lunch with my son. Call me if anything comes up." He figured it wouldn't hurt to spend some time with his Sonny Boy at the same time he was conducting his 'surveillance.' Besides, his son loved pizza, and next to him he was quite influential when he wanted to be, and quite the charmer. Perhaps he could use that to his advantage. It couldn't hurt, anyway.

Cynthia frowned, but then smiled at the mention of Brian's little boy. She knew how much he loved his son. "Tell Gus I said hello," she told him. "Bring him by sometime."

Brian nodded, unable to smile himself over the thought. He loved having Gus here at his office; at least when things weren't quite so hectic. "I will," he told her, just before he quickly exited out the front door, a man on a mission.

Chapter End Notes:

_Will have more posted again very shortly, including an all-important reunion...;) Thanks for reading, and for all the comments! Both are greatly appreciated. _


	7. Back Where It All Began

_One Hour Later...Delmonico's, 12:20 p.m._

Gus squealed in delight as he broke away from his father's hand to rush over toward the huge aquarium tank set up in the middle of the room, separating the nondescript, Italian family diner into two main eating areas. "Daddy! Look at that fish!" Gus called over to him excitedly as Brian smiled. "It looks just like Nemo!"

Brian smiled. "I see it, Sonny Boy," he told him as he walked over to join him. Lindsay and Mel - who lived a few miles away from Kinnetik now - were only too happy to have a small break for the afternoon while Brian took Gus out to lunch.

He observed his son with amusement as Gus stared, transfixed, at the colorful fish swimming around the various objects inside, weaving in and out of makeshift reefs, undulating ferns, and tunnels, his eyes lit up with amazement. "I want one of these," Gus exclaimed, his face glowing in wonder as he pressed his nose against the glass. He turned to his father hopefully, although Brian knew what he was going to say before he even uttered it. "Daddy, do you think Mommy and Mama would let me have an...an..." He scrunched up his nose in thought. "What _is _it?" He asked.

Brian laughed. "It's called an aquarium, Gus," he told his son with a patient smile. "A fancy name for a really big fish bowl," he explained as Gus nodded.

"Auk-where-ee-um," his son repeated thoughtfully. "Ohhh..."

Brian grinned. "Close enough, Sonny Boy," he told him as he reached over and playfully tugged his son's blue and white-pinstriped engineer's cap down lower on his forehead to partially cover his eyes.

"Daddy!" Gus whined in protest as Brian grinned. He pulled it back up a little and stared down into his son's indignant face. "Sorry 'bout that, Buddy," he kidded him, taking his hand in his. He looked around the restaurant, making sure he hadn't missed his target, but he didn't see anyone who would match the description of the blond-haired man he had seen earlier. "Let's go find a booth, okay? We can look at the fish again later."

Gus nodded, looking over his shoulder longingly one last time at the colorful, striped clown fish, before he allowed his father to gently lead him over to the hostess station - really, just a wooden podium with a handwritten list of customers waiting to be seated. Brian was glad to observe that while the place was busy, it wasn't packed. He wanted to make sure he didn't miss the blond-haired man he was seeking. Indicating to the hostess that he wanted a space for two, she led them to a nearby booth in a corner of the left-handed side of the room where he had a clear view of the front entrance.

Brian nodded politely as the waitress brought them over a couple glasses of water and placed menus down in front of them, although his son no doubt already had his heart set on an artery-clogging pepperoni pizza. He groaned inwardly; the heavy sauce would no doubt settle in his stomach for the remainder of the afternoon. But as he looked at his contented-looking son, he realized any momentary discomfort or acid reflux would be more than worth it.

* * *

><p>An hour later, his son sat next to him, remnants of marinara sauce all around his mouth and on his sticky fingers as he polished off his 3rd slice of pizza and took a last gulp from his soft drink. Gus was in seventh heaven, burbling away constantly about nothing and everything, from his latest adventure on the playground during his school's "Fantastic Friday" event, to taking a tumble on his bike at home, to how he didn't want to get his hair all cut off like his moms kept telling him he needed to do (truthfully, it <em>was<em> getting a big too shaggy). Normally accustomed to being the center of attention when it came to his father, Gus paused when he asked him a question about when he could come and spend the night, but didn't get a reply. He noticed his father's glance periodically drifting to the front of the restaurant, whenever the door opened and shut. "Daddy..." Gus called over to him amidst the other diners conversing and the occasional clatter of a glass or a dish, but his father kept his gaze leveled toward the door. So he tried again, only louder this time as he took a deep breath. "_Daddy_!"

His focus so intense, Brian jumped a little, startled, as he turned to look down at his frustrated son. "Sorry, Buddy. What were you saying?"

Gus huffed in irritation. "Why aren't you paying attention to me, Daddy? Am I boring?"

Brian smiled as he shook his head, reaching over to briefly caress his son's cheek. "You are _never _boring, Sonny Boy," he reassured him softly, shifting his attention solely to his son now. Obviously his hopes of catching the elusive artist who had one-upped Kinnetik wasn't going to happen today. That didn't mean it had all been a waste of time, though; any time he could spend with his son was always a treasured experience. "Now what were you trying to tell me?"

"I wanted to know when I could come and spend the night again. You promised to let me take a ride on the train."

Brian nodded with a smile. "Oh, I did, didn't I?" Gus nodded his head vigorously, his eyes lit up with excitement. Ever since Brian had found out about an old-fashioned steam train that operated in the greater Pittsburgh area, and traveled in an 80-mile round trip to and from the local, old-fashioned train depot, his son had been chomping at the bit to try it out. He had promised Gus the next time he came out to visit - which, coincidentally, was scheduled for this coming weekend - that he would take the two of them on one of their trips through the heavily wooded area that hugged the mountains and provided a magnificent view of the river below. He smiled ever wider as he informed his son, "Well, it just so happens that you're supposed to come and stay with me this weekend. How does Saturday sound?"

Gus became so exhilarated over the thought that he clapped his hands and yelled out, "Yay!" At the same time, his hand hit his glass and topped it onto the table, spilling the ice cubes all over the place.

Brian laughed as he reached for his cloth napkin and began to sop up the liquid. "Like I said, you are NEVER boring, Sonny Boy," he told him as Gus smiled back at him in relief. He sighed, noticing over an hour has passed since they had arrived. "Ready to go, Son?" he asked as he slid off the booth and stood up. Gus nodded as he, too, exited the bench seat and his father gripped his hand. "Let's go take one last look at Nemo, and then your father has to get back to work."

Gus skipped over to the fish tank with his father, who watched him closely as he paid for their meal at the cashier station. As they exited the restaurant a few minutes later, they headed to the parking lot where Brian's car was located, completely missing the blond-haired man who entered the restaurant from the other direction, running late for his daily lunch due to his boss keeping him over for a last-minute assignment regarding the new account they had just obtained.

* * *

><p><em>Saturday - the loft<em>

"Brian, I can't work miracles."

"What am I paying you for, Theodore?"

"Uhh...to handle millions of dollars for you responsibly, balance your accounts payable and receivable on a weekly basis, handle payroll, and set up the appropriate tax deferral accounts? Legally, of course."

Brian rolled his eyes. _Smart ass..._ "Well, then it shouldn't be hard for you to figure out who the new art intern is."

"I'm trying!" Ted protested. "HR won't give out any information on the phone. Why _would_ they? Even if I were calling for legitimate hiring purposes, they aren't required to divulge anything."

"Have I taught you nothing? Use your...your _charm_, your wits, your...contacts in the porn world! Just find out his name, or you'll be counting the number of people in the unemployment line."

"Thanks for your confidence in me, Brian. You do realize it's Saturday, right?"

"Anytime, Theodore. And yes, I learned the days of the week in kindergarten. I'll expect that information on my desk first thing Monday morning."

Ted sighed heavily on the other end. "Of course you will."

"Signing off now, Theodore." He flipped his phone shut with a sigh of his own. He didn't really have much confidence in Ted having any better luck than HE had had, but he thought it was worth a try. _Damn Palmer_. His information had turned out to be less than helpful, despite his not-so-subtle threats. Truthfully, revealing Palmer's inclination to ogle someone's breast size wasn't worth his time. But it galled him to be beaten by the other ad agency, especially through the actions of a fucking student intern. He did NOT like losing, especially to some snot-nosed, wet-behind-the-ears kid. A very _elusive_ kid to boot. For now, though, as he heard his son's thundering footsteps rushing down the hallway, he temporarily pushed his frustration aside. A tender smile appeared on his face as his son scurried into his office and practically ran into his arms. His heart swelled with love as he held onto the small body cradled in his lap. He never thought he could feel this happy about being a father, but there was just something about this child that produced great joy in his soul.

He pulled back to gaze into his son's expressive face. "Got everything you need, Sonny Boy?" he asked, noting his son's cap and kerchief. The wooden train whistle that Justin had given him was hanging around his neck. His pulse raced briefly as he thought about the blond. He had deluded himself into thinking he would never dwell on the time they had spent together, and that he wouldn't think about him. Ever since he had returned from Tennessee, he had dreamed of no one else. Despite how hard he tried, invariably when he fantasized about being with another man, Justin's face and body were what came to his mind unbidden. He couldn't quite say it was unwelcome, though. Quite the contrary. The vision of the beautiful blond who had captivated him in such a brief time, like a supernova that burned brightly and then quickly disappeared into the inky darkness - had become many a basis for some quite erotic interludes as he slept. He couldn't quite figure out what it was about him that made him stand out from all the other men he had fucked. Perhaps that was the point, though. For some inexplicable reason, he didn't see Justin as 'just another fuck.' Hell, it had taken a while to even reach that point with him in the literal sense. But surprisingly, he had enjoyed his company immensely no matter what they had been doing, even when it hadn't involved sex. But holy shit; when they _were_ together that way, it was unlike any experience he had ever had before.

He had shown admirable restraint following through on his promise not to contact Justin for several months after they had parted; but eventually, his son's queries about his 'friend' they had met while they had been on vacation, and his vivid, erotic night dreams, had eventually compelled him to pick up his cellphone and dial the number of the _Sit a Spell_ in Pigeon Forge. Imagine his surprise, however, when he was told that 'Justin Taylor was no longer employed with them.' He couldn't recall the name of Justin's friend who had worked there with him - and had been his roommate, from what he could remember - but when he had mentioned that to the person who had answered the phone, they quickly realized whom he was referring to, and had told him that she, too, had quit at approximately the same time. They didn't have any forwarding information, or details about where the two had gone. But one of the other wait staff the person had asked had mentioned they thought the two had actually left town for parts unknown.

So his slow buildup of courage and surrender of his pride had all been for naught, and now he had NO idea where the man had gone. He sighed, recalling those all-too-brief days last summer that he and his son had spent with the young waiter. Now that he had time to reflect upon it, those days had been some of the happiest of his life. Every moment spent with Justin had merely cemented his feeling that he only wanted to get to know him more, to spend additional time with him, to learn his passions; his likes, his dislikes, his hopes and dreams. Now, however, it appeared that would never happen.

"Daddy?"

Brian blinked, coming back to the present. He looked over at the door, wondering how and when his son had slid off his lap and walked over to the front of the room. He was currently peering back at him in confusion and curiosity. Brian smiled over at him wistfully. "I'm coming, Gus," he assured him as he rose from his chair to join him. Placing his hand on his son's shoulder, the two of them walked down the hallway toward the garage to begin their railway adventure.

* * *

><p><em>Two Hours Later...<em>

Well, somehow his Sonny Boy had managed to do it again. He had finagled his way into the locomotive, and was presently sitting in the assistant engineer's lap as the train rambled down the track as it wound its way around the edge of the mountain. Brian kept a watchful eye on him, a little leery of the open doorways on either side of the monstrous car, the steam periodically assaulting both his nostrils with its acrid smell, and making his eyes burn when it blew in just the proper direction to waft into the compartment.

As he looked down at the sheer cliffs beside the track, however, he had to admit it was breathtakingly majestic. A vast, green, pine blanket was everywhere the eye could see, endless mountains rising upward toward the sky, almost as if they could kiss it. And the rushing river rapids flowing in a furious, winding pattern below were tinged with large boulders that periodically rose above the water like telescopes. Occasionally a hawk, or even a bald eagle, would glide by his vision, flying for miles without so much as a wing flap. The sky was crystal clear and a magnificent blue, with just a wisp here and there of clouds skittering by. The sun cast a warm but not too overbearing glow down onto the train, the breeze providing just enough of a contrast to keep it from being stiflingly hot.

He looked over at his son, whose current smile of sheer delight would rival anyone's, including the young artist who had accompanied them on their last ride. He grinned over at him in reaction, his own expression of amusement slowly transforming into something more melancholy, because their current situation reminded him of what he had lost. Why had he been so damn stupid about not getting better contact information from Justin? If he remembered correctly, he hadn't even given the other man his last name. At the time, it hadn't seemed important. He had looked at it as a fun, temporary type of diversion with an attractive, sexy man; not too dissimilar from hundreds of other encounters he had experienced before. Except none of them had also included his son. None of them had involved hours of lively discussion and innocent enjoyment, just being content in another man's company. None of them had so closely involved Gus, or meant so much to him. Until then, he would have never even allowed it. But with Justin, somehow all of that had been different. It hadn't seemed odd at all to want to include him when he spent time with his son on vacation. With Justin, it had felt...natural. Normal.

Brian shook his head sadly as he continued to gaze over at his son, who was being held gently but firmly by the older, gray-haired, wizened man wearing a faded pair of gray-and-white overalls, a long-sleeved, off-white cotton, shirt, a red, paisley scarf tied around his neck, and a matching gray-and-white train cap. As his son animatedly threw out questions at the man as if he was his long-time grandfather, it was hard to tell whether his son was having more fun, or the assistant engineer.

At last, however, their host politely mentioned that they would need to take extra care with a tight turn coming up, so for the sake of their passengers - and due to railway regulation rules - they would have to return to their seats. A bit disappointed, but also somewhat sleepy by now, Brian retrieved his son from the man's lap, and began to carefully carry him back to the next car. Seeing how full it was, he decided to proceed further back toward the end, hoping to find a couple of seats toward the rear of the train, where there were open-air cars for easier sightseeing.

They were almost nearing the end of their journey; the train would be stopping at the small depot in a few miles to let its passengers off. It had been a pleasant way to spend a couple of hours - and Brian was thankful to have this son this weekend - but in the back of his mind he was always thinking ahead, and his thoughts recently were focused on the artist who had managed to snatch the Starlight account out of his hands. One way or the other, he was determined to find out who he was.

Reaching the open observation cars, Brian was surprised to notice all of the seats occupied, many of the riders gazing out the windows or snapping photos of the scenery. "Daddy, where are WE going to sit?" Gus asked, echoing his same thought.

Noticing there was one last car remaining - the caboose - he lifted his son higher into his embrace as Gus wrapped his legs tighter around his father's waist. "It's okay, Sonny Boy," he told him soothingly. "We have one more car to check out. Come on."

As he slid open the door to the last compartment, he groaned. This one, too, was full. That left only one alternative if they didn't want to stand: hopefully the outside viewing area of the caboose was vacant.

Placing his son down, he grasped his hand. "Want to go outside?" he asked him as Gus nodded with an excited smile.

Walking over to the door, he pushed it open, the banging sound as it slid back into place startling the lone occupant who was sitting on a metal, red-colored bench, sketchpad and pencil in his hand as he drew a landscape scene. The pencil promptly fell onto the hard, metal floor, along with the open sketchpad, however, as the artist peered over at the door and instantly recognized the father and son joining him. He didn't have time to say anything aloud, however, as Gus beat him to it.

"Justin!" Gus screeched out in joy, as he rushed over and flung himself into Justin's open arms. "It's_ you!" _Gus wrapped his arms around Justin's neck and pulled him closer before he asked him reproachfully, "Where have you been?"

Justin was rendered speechless, just like the boy's father who was staring over at him in stunned disbelief. It was hard to tell which one was more surprised at the moment, but one thing was clear: both of them were wearing identical looks, a mixture of shock and exhilaration.

His momentary surprise quickly abated - even though his question was going unanswered - Gus leaned back to stare into Justin's eyes as he began to converse with him as if nothing had changed. "Look, Justin, I'm wearing the whistle you gave me!" He reached up with his hands to grasp the chunky object and pursed his lips against it to blow, the shrill sound of the whistle piercing the air, but hardly able to be heard about the hissing of the steam as the train turned the last corner toward its destination.

Brian stood transfixed, rooted to his spot, observing the scene between his son and Justin as if it were a movie reel. The whole thing was so surreal to him as he watched Justin finally break off their gaze to peer into his son's eyes and smile. "I...I see that, Gus," he told him, his own arms wrapped around the child's back to hold him securely against him.

Finally, Brian found his legs again as he walked over and, bracing his hand against one of the rails so he didn't fall, he retrieved Justin's sketchpad and pencil. Standing mere feet from the other man holding his child, he shook his head in astonishment. Was this really happening? He had to know for sure. His brain was telling him, yes, of course. But his heart was another matter.

He walked the couple of steps over to the bench and sat down next to Justin. A rush of emotions engulfed him as his thigh touched the denim-clad one of his companion's, the light touch still quite searing and pronounced. _Oh, my God. This IS real_, immediately sprang to his mind as his eyes locked on Justin's. He shook his head again as his son peered over Justin's shoulder, a look of wonder on his face. It probably looked much like his own as he finally asked, "How? How is this possible?"_ Do you have any idea how long I have waited to see you again? How BADLY I wanted to see you again? _He thought silently as he reveled in the sight of him. He wanted so much at that moment to reach out and pull Justin into his arms and plaster a kiss on those plump, pink lips as further reassurance that he wasn't dreaming all this up, but his son was preventing that. Instead, he decided to stare intently into Justin's face, afraid to avert his eyes away for fear he would turn back around and the man would have vanished again.

But to his immense relief, he received a response to his question, allowing him to hope this was all deliciously real. "It's a long story," Justin told him with a smile as he continued to hold onto Gus, who was now sitting up on his knees with his back to him, attempting to get a better look at something over Justin's shoulder as he fidgeted. "But to make a long story short, I'm going to school in Pittsburgh...on a grant."

"You...you _are_? Which school? How long have you been here?" Brian asked, repeating his son's earlier question.

"About a semester now." Justin smiled. "I'm attending PIFA. It's great! It's one of the schools I always wanted to attend so I could concentrate on my art career."

Brian nodded with a slight smile. "I told you there was more in store for you besides drawing on disposable placements," he reminded him teasingly as Justin grinned. He frowned slightly, however, as he asked, "But how, Justin? How did you get from Tennessee to HERE?"

"You can thank my friend, Daphne, for that. Unbeknownst to me, she sent in an application to several colleges on my behalf, along with some of my work. PIFA offered me a full ride, and had the best deal financially, so I wound up here." He paused as Gus shifted in his arms, signaling he wanted down. He gently turned the boy around and helped him down onto the floor, as Gus scampered over to the other side of the car for a look on the other side.

"Hold onto the railing, Sonny Boy," Brian warned him, finally taking his eyes briefly off the other man. "Don't let go, okay?"

"Okay, Daddy," the child reassured him, his hands curled around the wrought-iron railing as the train slowly decreased in speed, preparing to slide into the railway depot for disembarking. Brian made sure he was doing as he asked before he turned back to Justin. This time, he reached out to grab his hand, his heart racing as he felt the warmth of his touch. _This IS real, _he told himself, finally convinced. _He really IS here, sitting beside me again_.

Justin was thinking much the same thing, as he stared into the hazel eyes that had haunted his dreams for months now. He had given up hope of ever seeing Brian again. But here he was, sitting next to him, their hands clasped together between them, much like they had been that day on the sky ride. He didn't know what sort of fate had conspired to bring them back together again, but he would be eternally grateful to whomever or whatever had been responsible for it. He had missed seeing this man so much! But his heart had closed off any chance of ever being with him again. Now, though, it was as if the gate locking it shut had unexpectedly swung wide open again. "I...I don't believe this," he whispered as he peered into Brian's eyes. A small smile played at Brian's lips as he told him, "I didn't even know where you lived. I didn't even know your last name. I never thought I would ever see you again."

"Neither did I," Brian murmured in amazement. In some ways, it was as if they had never parted, even though it had been almost a year now. He felt so comfortable around Justin. He had felt that way back then, and he _still_ felt that way. He glanced over at Gus to make sure he was still being careful, satisfied that he was continuing to hold onto the railing, as he turned back to his companion. He shook his head once more. "Of all the places you could have chosen to attend. Wow," he murmured, glancing down at their clasped hands. He reached over to pick up the sketchbook and admire Justin's ability. "This is amazing," he told him appreciatively. "So detailed."

"Thanks," Justin replied, his face flushing over the praise. "I took an illustration class this past semester," he told him. "And I've been picking up some experience this summer as an intern." He added, "As a matter of fact, it's at one of the ad agencies in town. It's not yours, is it?" Surely if it HAD been, he would have heard Brian's name mentioned by now.

Brian shook his head as he frowned, something badgering him at the back of his mind. Ad agency...intern...blond... _Oh, no. _"Justin?"

"Hmm?"

"What's the name of the agency you're interning _for_?"

"It's called StrataG. As a matter of fact, they just picked up a big account the other day," he told him proudly. "I did the illustration work on it." He gasped as Brian yanked his hand away, almost as if it were burning. "What? What is it?" he asked, alarmed.

"YOU did the artwork for that account?" Brian asked sharply, his brows narrowing in dismay.

"Yes," he answered hesitantly, wondering why Brian was looking at him that way. "Why? I mean, I know I'm just a college student, but the CEO seemed really pleased with the results, and we were successful..."

"Yeah, I know you were," Brian responded dryly. "TOO successful. Marcum made that very clear to me...in fact, he couldn't stop talking about you, although he didn't mention you by name."

Justin's brow furrowed in confusion. How would Brian _know_ that? Then it occurred to him; Marcum had told the StrataG team that another ad agency had pitched their own ideas to him just before they had arrived, and he had mentioned that he would be making his decision immediately after both teams were finished. "Oh, no," he murmured in realization. "You mean that _you_ were the...the other...?"

"Yeah," Brian told him, his lips pursed tightly together in irritation. "Kinnetik was going after that same account. And we fucking lost." He stared straight ahead, seemingly lost in thought, before he turned back to his companion. "And I don't like to lose, Justin."

Justin's eyes grew wide. "Oh, shit; I had no idea, Brian! All I knew was what I was told; that our agency and one other one were competing for their business." He bit his lip in distress; suddenly, his previous feeling of pride and jubilation quickly disappeared as he realized what had happened. "I didn't know," he repeated, deflated and feeling like crap.

Brian shook his head in dismissal. "StrataG won fair and square," he told him flatly. "Obviously my Art Department couldn't live up to the other company's ace in the hole. The way Marcum described you, he believes you're going to be the greatest pop artist genius of the 21st century."

Justin's mouth hung open. "He said that?"

Brian nodded tersely. "In a manner of speaking. I'm not sure he's such an expert judge about art, though." He realized how that sounded as soon as it was out of mouth, as he noticed Justin's face fall. "Present company excepted," he added quickly as Justin nodded in relief. Peering over at Gus again to make sure he was still doing as he asked, he sighed. "I'm not angry at you, Justin. I'm more pissed off at my own Art Department for not living up to my high standards - and being outdone by a college intern half their age." He grimaced, somewhat embarrassed that he couldn't best this other competitor. But now that he understood who the intern had been, it began to make sense. Realizing what he had done earlier, he reached back over to grip Justin's hand in his, remembering the vow he had made. "Well, that can all be quickly addressed," he decided as Justin frowned.

"What do you mean?" he pressed him.

Brian smirked; the solution was an easy one. "You'll just have to come and work for me, that's all. I only employ the best." He grimaced. "And I thought I HAD the best - until the other day. But that can be easily fixed now." He said it as if it were a done deal, and extraordinarily simple.

He soon found out that it was not going to be that easy, however, as Justin shook his head sadly.

"What?"

"I can't leave StrataG," he told him. "The school has an exclusive agreement with them to place their students there, including during our summer break. If I don't stay there as an intern, I won't get college credit for it come fall. And if I _did_ quit, I might never get another chance to co-op again. I don't want the school to look at me as some kind of a quitter who doesn't follow through on his commitments."

"But..." Brian's mouth hung open. He was all in favor of a person being ethical and responsible, but this was not acceptable. For a LOT of reasons.

The train was coming to a stop now, as people began to filter out from the accompanying car in preparation to disembark. Brian knew with the burgeoning crowd that now was not going to be a good time to continue their conversation, so instead he rose to his feet and pulled Justin up along with him.

Motioning for his son to join him, he dropped Justin's hand to grasp his son's. Turning slightly to face the other man, he told him with determination, "This discussion isn't finished, Justin."

Justin opened his mouth to reply, but the hissing sound coming from the locomotive, along with the screech of the brakes, drowned out any response he might make. So instead, he finally nodded, sensing that Brian wouldn't just let the issue go. He would _love _to work with Brian's agency. But he was torn. He couldn't go to work for him without jeopardizing his co-op status. And he knew it was important to establish himself. Truthfully, too, he had been so surprised but happy when his own designs had been chosen by Mr. Marcum as the basis for accepting StrataG's campaign. That had filled him with immense pride. How could he risk what he had so justly earned?

He looked down then as he felt Gus slipping his hand into his, unable to stop from smiling down at him as the young boy peered up at him with such an innocent, trusting look on his face. To Gus, holding his father's hand and Justin's hand seemed like the most natural thing in the world. Justin exchanged an intense look with Brian before one of the porters announced it was time to disembark, and the trio headed along with the others toward the now-open gate.

Soon, the three were back at the train depot, heading toward the parking lot. "How did you get here?" Brian asked Justin, unwilling to let him slip through his fingers again.

Justin indicated a rather nondescript, used car sitting several feet away as Brian winced. "You came in that?" The vehicle - one of those four-door sedans that looked like every other sedan - had rust spots around one of the tire rims, and a few nicks and scrapes along the side.

"It's reliable transportation, and it's all I can afford right now," Justin told him a little defensively. Not everyone could afford what Brian no doubt could. "It gets me where I need to go."

His companion wrinkled his face in distaste, wary it would travel so much as another foot without falling apart. "Well, right _now_ it needs to get you back to my place."

Gus took turns twisting his head back and forth, listening to the two men talking as if he were observing a tennis match, as Justin replied intelligently, "Huh?"

"You're coming back to my loft with Gus and me. No arguments. I insist. That is, if that rattletrap can get you there in one piece without breaking down first. I don't fix flat tires, either."

"Yay!" Gus exclaimed in happiness. "Yeah, Just'n! You need to come home with us. I can show you all my trains. Daddy's bought me lots of trains!"

"I'm sure he has," was the dry response. "I'm surprised he hasn't bought you a real one yet." He didn't know why, but it kind of bothered him that after all this time - despite the fact of how happy he was to see him again -Brian evidently thought that anything he said goes, and he was still thinking about their earlier conversation. He had more than just his libido to think about here. His future career and his reputation could be on the line. He sighed, though, knowing whatever his reservations, he desperately wanted to spend more time with Brian on a personal level. And as he glanced over at the hopeful look on Gus's face, he knew he couldn't disappoint him, either. He finally nodded his head. "Okay. You lead the way..."

* * *

><p><em>Twenty Minutes Later...<em>

Justin pulled up to the curb behind Brian's car in front of a squat, brick building, surprised that someone like him would live in such an unmemorable type of place. As he emerged from the car, Gus scampered over to him and grabbed his hand as if he were playing tour guide, causing both men to smile in amusement.

A few minutes - and a ride in a rickety kind of elevator later - the trio emerged onto the top floor, Gus eagerly pulling Justin toward a large, metal door. Justin would have sworn he was about to enter some type of industrial, cavernous factory, rather than someone's living quarters. That is, until Brian punched in a security code and swung the door open to let him enter first.

His mouth hung open as he gazed upward at the extremely high, exposed ceilings, and the dramatic windows that opened its arms to welcome the sunlight, spotlighting the gleam of the stainless steel, top-of-the-line appliances, and the polished, hardwood, oak floor. The space was tastefully and exquisitely decorated, but also open and airy. It wasn't at all what Justin was expecting. "Wow," he murmured as he examined it intently, turning completely around to take in the furnishings. His eyes settled briefly on a large painting of a naked man, his face burning, before he focused on the living room area and then a set of panels that evidently separated that area from the more private bedroom space. "This is amazing." He decided that the artist in him liked the clean lines and the modern look of the place. He _did _notice a few concessions to Gus's presence, however. Over in one corner was what appeared to be a large, wooden, toy box; a train track was set up next to it in a figure-8 shape, and two, curved, black leatherette bean bag chairs were placed beside it, evidently for the 'engineers.' Next to the train track was a child's artist easel with some newspapers generously placed underneath, no doubt to control a somewhat rambunctious child's artistic endeavors.

He turned around to smile at Brian. "I like it," he told him as Brian nodded; he noticed him studying him carefully as he asked, "How long have you lived here?"

Brian thought for a moment before he replied, "About 12 years or so."

Justin nodded back at him, his eyes drinking in all the shapes, lines, and colors that flowed into a cohesive, bold statement. "I would have never guessed the inside of this building would look like this."

"Only this floor," Brian told him. "The other apartments aren't as..." He wasn't sure HOW to describe them - or his own loft. He finally settled on "well-appointed," so he didn't come off as some ostentatious snob.

"Daddy told me he wants to find a house," Gus suddenly chimed in. "A house with a big yard for me to play in!"

Brian seemed a little uncomfortable as he mumbled, "Well, one day," he told him, as he reached out to affectionately ruffle his hair. "When we find the right one." He almost seemed a little embarrassed to admit how deeply he loved his son, and what lengths he would go to in order to make him happy, but it only made Justin respect the man more.

* * *

><p>Two hours later, Gus had practically worn Justin out, persuading him to play with his trains, a remote control car, donning a cap pistol and a brown, plastic cowboy hat to play 'sheriff and bad guy' (Justin was the bad guy who had to hide out behind the couch until Gus 'shot' him), and sketching a pencil drawing of him, Brian, and his son so Gus could color it later.<p>

Finally, Brian took pity on him as he scooped up his giggling son and carried him over to the couch, unceremoniously dropping him onto the soft piece of furniture. Gus squealed in delight as his father tackled him and proceeded to mercilessly tickle him for a few moments, before he showered his son with kisses on his face and neck. Justin's heart skipped a beat at the sight; it was so obvious how much this man loved his little boy.

Finally, Brian eased up on his assault, announcing that it was time for Gus's shower. The child's protests were promptly pushed aside as his father promised to read him one of favorite stories afterward - a book by the name of, naturally, "Locomotive" - and soon enough, the two of them were heading toward the bathroom, providing Justin with a brief respite from his role as playmate. He smiled as he watched them disappear into the bedroom and heard the water starting, knowing that Brian would be keeping a careful eye on his son.

After drying his son off and helping him put on his pajamas, Brian called out to Justin, telling him he would join him as soon as he read Gus his bedtime story. Several minutes later, his son had fallen asleep in his massive, king-sized, platform bed, one of his favorite, stuffed toys - a "Thomas the Train" Pillow Pet - tucked under his arm. Gazing at him tenderly, Brian leaned down to bestow a kiss on his son's cheek before he pulled the blanket up higher on his small body and turned the table lamp down to a dimmer setting. "Good night, Tiger," he whispered affectionately as he rose gingerly from the bed so as not to disturb him.

Quietly closing the blinds behind him, Brian plodded down the steps into the living room and frowned. There was no sign of Justin; the room was inexplicably silent. Where had he gone? Surely he hadn't left? His heart fell in disappointment - until he walked further toward the couch. There, lying on his side with his hands folded under his head, was his blond, fast asleep as well. _His. _When did he begin thinking about Justin as 'his' blond? He gingerly sat down on the edge of the couch near Justin's legs, and indulged himself, simply spending several moments just staring at him. He looked so peaceful, lying there asleep, his face relaxed in slumber as if he didn't have a care in the world.

Brian knew better, though, or at least suspected. Yes, Justin might have a financial grant that provided him with much of what he needed as a student, but that didn't mean he didn't have any troubles. And Brian felt like he had managed to add to them earlier today, when he had laid a guilt trip on him for not immediately jumping at the chance to join his company.

Placing one hand on the back of the couch, he leaned down until he could lightly brush some hair away from Justin's eyes, tucking it behind his ear. He resisted kissing the slightly-parted, soft lips that were tempting him as pulled back and just sat there, staring down at the man who had occupied so many of his dreams over the past several months. What exactly was it about Justin that intrigued him so? And his child clearly adored him. His son - for all his tender years - was an excellent judge of character. He, too, saw something special in this man.

Pulling the lightweight throw from the back of the couch, he placed it over Justin's legs and chest before, with one last gaze at the other man, he slowly rose from his place on the couch and headed over to the bedroom, shedding his clothes and slipping into a lightweight pair of sweatpants before sliding in next to his son. It would be several minutes before he could finally fall asleep, dreaming once more of a certain blond in the next room.

Chapter End Notes:

_More up soon. Thank you as always for reading, and for commenting. I appreciate both very much._


	8. I'm Feeling Really Dirty

_Okay, I admit it; not much plot progression in this one. But the boys are feeling a little grungy - and need to get reacquainted (hint, hint). _

_The next morning..._

Justin slowly awoke to the feeling of someone tugging on his sleeve. Frowning in confused disorientation, his eyes fluttered open as he gazed up at a high, exposed ceiling, initially making him wonder if he was truly awake or not. His eyes grew wide as he turned his head and peered into a pair of expressive, brown eyes belonging to a certain, inquisitive, little boy, and it was then that he realized where he was, and what had happened. Somehow, he must have managed to fall asleep on Brian's couch!

"Gus," he murmured, his voice thick with drowsiness. He smiled at him ruefully. "I must have been pretty tired last night." He noticed the room was extremely quiet, except for the soft ticking of a clock somewhere nearby. He wasn't sure what time it was, but the sun had evidently been up for a while; the room was presently bathed in bright light. "Where's your father?"

"Still in bed," Gus told him matter-of-factly. Justin nodded, wondering why he had been given the 'honor' of being awakened, instead of his father. "I'm hungry," the boy added, dropping a not-so-subtle hint, at least in Justin's opinion. "Do you know how to cook? Daddy usually burns everything, so I have to eat cereal."

Justin grinned as he threw the cover back and sat up on the couch, stretching his arms above his head to try and wake up a little more fully. "Well, why don't you show me around the kitchen, and I'll see what I can do, okay?" Gus nodded his head vigorously as Justin stood up. He scratched his head for a moment as he suggested, "Wait here for a few minutes, though, so I can use the bathroom first, okay?"

Gus nodded again. "Okay. But hurry up; my stomach's growling; it's really hungry."

Justin laughed softly. "That sounds pretty serious. I won't take long," he promised. Gus sat down on the couch as Justin shuffled over toward the elevated bedroom area, his socked feet slipping slightly against the hardwood floor. He didn't even remember taking off his shoes last night; had Brian done that? He must have put a blanket over him, also.

Quietly climbing the few steps toward the bedroom, he stopped just inside the partly-opened partition, his gaze fixated on the still form a few feet away. Brian was sleeping on his side with his back to him, his bronzed, lightly muscled, smooth skin on display and open for his appreciation. His lower torso was hidden by a bunched-up, navy-blue sheet snuggling against his body like a cocoon. His auburn hair was slightly mussed up, and he could hear a soft wheezing sort of sound coming from Brian's lips.

_God, the man was so striking_, he couldn't help thinking. _Even at rest_. Unable to resist, Justin softly padded around the bed to get a better look at his host. Brian's face was smooth and unwrinkled as if he hadn't a care in the world, although Justin knew he must shoulder a great deal of responsibility, not only as the head of a major advertising agency, but also as a dedicated father. Brian's hand was resting in front of his body, exposing his long, elegant fingers, the fingers that Justin knew were so warm and protective in his grasp. He was dying to reach out and stroke skin - _any_ skin - and indulge in one of his fantasies to explore every inch of that amazing body. But the peaceful look on Brian's face - and his son, who was no doubt waiting impatiently for him to return to the living room - held him back. Sighing softly, then, he walked back around to head into the master bathroom.

His jaw dropped open as he surveyed the cavernous bathroom. It was almost as large as his dorm room at school. He walked over to the toilet to use it, looking around at the marble walls, the expensive-looking fixtures, and the thick, luxurious towels. Fastening his jeans, he trod over to the sink to wash his hands and slap a little water on his face, peering into the mirror. He groaned. His hair was sticking up all over the place, and his clothes were more wrinkled than an elephant's skin. _Real attractive look there, Taylor, _he silently chided himself. He let out a resigned breath between his lips. Well, it hadn't been his intention to participate in a sleepover. He shook his head as he wiped his hands on a nearby towel and surveyed the massive, glass-wall shower. _Don't go there_, he told himself silently, but he couldn't help it. His face flushed as he recalled the one time he and Brian had had sex. Oh, my God, it was like spontaneous combustion, a supernova, and the exhilarating rush of bungee-jumping off the highest bridge, all at once. He had never experienced sex like that before, and it filled him with an intense longing to feel it again. He could just imagine the two of them right now in that shower, their bodies molded together, back-to-front, while Brian pounded into him relentlessly from behind...

He moaned, feeling his cock coming to life at the mere thought. _Great_, he groaned. _Now he had to figure out a way to get rid of his hard-on_. He glanced back through the open bedroom, wondering if Brian would mind if he hopped in the shower for a few minutes. Besides needing to alleviate some sexual tension, he also felt decidedly grungy. He knew Gus was no doubt in a hurry for him to return, too. Biting his lip, he decided if he was fast, he could hop in the shower and be in and out in no time. His decision made, then, he shuffled over to the glass sliding door separating the two rooms and carefully closed it, stripping off his clothes as he shivered slightly in the cool air.

It took him a few moments to figure out how to start the stream of water as he waited for it to warm up, trying hard not to think about the man sleeping so close by.

* * *

><p><em>Same Time...<em>

Brian stirred in his bed, stretching his arms above his head as he urged his body into full wakefulness. Sliding up to sit with his back to the headboard, he noticed the space previously occupied by his precocious son was now vacant. He glanced over at his bedside clock, noting the time: 8:30 a.m. That was a little later than Gus would normally awaken whenever he stayed with him. Remembering that Justin had fallen asleep on the couch, he wondered if his son was out there with him.

Soon, however, his mind registered the sound of running water coming from the bathroom, and he couldn't help smiling. He knew his son would never take a shower by himself - the controls were too difficult to him to operate - so that left only one explanation. Someone must have been feeling dirty after spending the night here. Well, HE was feeling dirty, too. _Very, very dirty_...

Sliding out of bed, he shuffled over to the open panels and quickly headed out into the living room. Sure enough, his son was presently fidgeting on the couch, watching some type of cartoon on the television with Justin nowhere in sight.

"Hey, Sonny Boy," he greeted his son as he walked over to sit down next to him, pulling him briefly into an embrace and ruffling his hair affectionately. "Have you been up very long?"

Gus shook his head, a distinct, chocolate milk mustache around his lips, even though there was no glass in sight.

Brian couldn't help chuckling. "Sonny Boy, have you been in the refrigerator by chance?" He leaned over to wipe some of the milk off his face with his fingers as he grinned. "That's okay; you don't have to answer. Hungry?"

Gus nodded. "Just'n is supposed to fix me something to eat when he gets out of the bathroom. You burn everything, Daddy."

"Hey! I do not. I don't burn your oatmeal."

"That's because it's instant. But you left it in the microwave the last time, and it blowed up." He made a circular motion for emphasis.

Brian grimaced; he remembered that well. It had taken several minutes - and lots of elbow grease - to remove all the sticky residue from the inside of his gourmet appliance. "_Blew_ up," he corrected him gently before he replied, "Well, what would you like this morning? I can make it for you. It sounds like Justin's in the shower." _Please let it be something quick,_ he silently pleaded.

To his delight, his son replied, "Waffles with syrup?"

Brian smiled; that was one thing he could handle - and it was fairly quick, using the toaster. "Okay, then, Sonny Boy," he urged his son as he pulled him to his feet and walked over to the kitchen with him. "You have a seat, and your old man will have them ready in a jiffy. More chocolate milk?" he asked, as he retrieved his son's cup from the sink, right where he figured it would be. His son nodded his head as he slipped into a nearby chair at the dining room table.

In record time, Brian had a couple of waffles, some grapes, and another glass of chocolate milk placed in front of his son. Making sure Gus had the butter and warm syrup he always preferred with his breakfast, he hurriedly cut up the waffles into smaller-sized pieces before advising his son he needed to take a shower, too, and that he and Justin would be out soon. Leaving his son to watch one of his favorite cartoons - and turning the television up just a bit louder than normally necessary - Brian turned and headed eagerly toward the bedroom that led into his master bathroom, sliding the glass door open before shutting it securely behind him.

His eyes immediately fixated on the mouthwatering sight in front of him: his sleepover guest in all his resplendent, naked glory, basking under the spray of the shower. Justin had his back to him, and did not suspect he was about to have company. Brian pulled off his sweatpants in record time, hurriedly stepping out of them and walking over to the shower. His eyes swept over the amazing man standing no more than a couple feet away through the misty glass. Justin's creamy skin was smooth and unblemished, tiny droplets of water hugging his shoulders and the curve of his back as he washed himself. He watched, fascinated, as a small rivulet of water slid down the man's spine, and disappeared between the crack of his incredible, bubble butt. Justin had to have the sexiest, most amazingly hot ass he had ever had the pleasure of seeing, tasting, and thrusting into. Just the thought of his cock being inside that sweet, tight space again made his entire body come alive. Watching Justin throw his head back slightly to rinse off his soapy hair, his grabbed his cock and began to stroke it briefly, biting his lip to keep a moan from escaping as he thought about where he hoped it would be shortly.

It was not enough. If he wasn't inside that man within minutes, he would fucking come merely by watching him. Deciding he preferred some much more 'up close and personal' action, he walked over and pulled the door open. A few moments later, he couldn't be sure if the heat he immediately felt was coming from the steam of the shower - or from the knowledge he was about to hold Justin in his arms again.

* * *

><p>His eyes closed in rapture as he felt the pulsating, invigorating, rainforest showerhead raining down on his body, Justin's mind didn't register at first the telltale sound of the heavy shower door being opened behind him. But his eyes flew open as he felt a body press itself up against his back, and a pair of long arms slide around his waist to pull him back even closer. His heart raced then and he gasped when a pair of soft, warm lips latched onto his neck and began to nibble on his skin like a succulent appetizer, as Brian's hands began to roam all over his slippery chest and belly.<p>

He whimpered as he managed somehow to turn around in Brian's arms to stare into a set of intense, hazel, lust-filled eyes; the other man's intense desire for him was clear and resolute as Brian slid his hands up his arms and grasped his shoulders to stare back at him.

"Brian," he breathlessly responded, his heart threatening to explode out of his chest. "What...What are you doing?"

The other man smirked at him as glanced down at their twin woodies. "I would think that is quite obvious." He moved one hand upward to slowly swipe over Justin's full, lower lip as the water continued to gently rain down from above them.

Justin couldn't help watching, entranced, as some water slowly slid down Brian's pecs; he noticed both nipples were erect and a dusky pink color, and he couldn't help wondering if it was due to the water - or the man's blatant desire for him. He hadn't even touched Brian yet; was it possible he had that intense of an effect on this man? The thought made him inexplicably pleased. Slowly he lifted his gaze to peer into Brian's eyes, watching as his head slowly leaned in toward him, his intentions clear. God, how he had been wanting to kiss those lips again! That was the last, rational thought that drifted through his mind before Brian gripped the back of his neck and plastered their mouths together.

He gasped at the sensations rushing through him as he closed his eyes and just _felt_, his hands blindly reaching out to grab onto anything to anchor him there, feeling like he was about to drown and be swept away in a tide of pure, erotic bliss. No one's kisses had ever affected him like this before. Brian's lips were just like he had remembered them, only better: soft, warm, possessive and firm, but also gentle, as his tongue pushed between his slightly parted lips and slid inside to deepen the kiss, Brian's hands sliding around his back to mold their bodies impossibly closer. Their cocks slid together with delicious friction as both men moaned in reaction, neither one willing or physically unable to stop now.

"Turn around," Brian demanded urgently as they finally broke off the kiss. At that moment, even if Justin wasn't confident that Brian had ensured a certain, inquisitive little boy otherwise known as his son was somewhere out of hearing and sight range, he didn't have the ability to even formulate the question as he braced his hands, palms down, against the expensive, marble tile of the bathroom wall while Brian nudged his legs further apart. His dick was rock-hard, and his body was tingling wildly now in anticipation as he heard the distinctive pop of a lid being opened, and then felt the coldness of lubricant gel being spread around his hole, gasping as a coated finger probed inside him, and then another.

He arched his back to fuck himself shamelessly on Brian's fingers, uttering a loud, guttural cry as Brian hit his sweet spot and he saw stars in his eyes from the feeling it generated. "Oh, fuck," he moaned in reaction before whimpering at the feeling of those talented fingers being removed. He was lost now in a haze of desire of Brian nipped briefly at his left earlobe and whispered hotly in his ear, "Hang on; the best is yet to come." He chuckled a little at the double entendre, but Justin was too far gone to even see the joke in his statement as he heard a tearing sound behind him.

"Come on, Brian!" he growled, his voice echoing off the shower walls. He pushed his ass out and spread his legs even farther apart as he demanded, "Fuck me." He couldn't wait a second longer.

Luckily, Brian was feeling much the same way, as an instant later he felt a teasing at his pulsating, puckered hole, followed by a slight pressure as his lover pushed in slightly, placing his hands on the sides of his waist for more leverage. He felt Brian's fingers digging into his flesh as he moaned, feeling him pushing in further; he felt so full, so surrounded, on fire. "Oh, God...Yes...that's it...I...Yes...That feels _so_ amazing..." The words tumbled out of his mouth, part plea, part encouragement, as Brian pushed in more until they were fully skin on skin, the water washing over them gently, in complete contrast to the feeling of urgency in both men. "Brian..." he whimpered. Why was he not moving?

"What do you want, Justin?" Brian whispered in his ear as he lay plastered against the smaller frame, his long fingers splayed out against his waist possessively. "Tell me." It felt almost indescribable, his cock embedded inside the hot, tight space, surrounding him, encasing him.

Justin groaned in frustration and impatience as his head lolled back onto Brian's shoulder in surrender. "You _know_ what I want," he growled breathlessly, his chest rising and falling rapidly and his heart pounding furiously like a scared bird's. But he was NOT scared. Far from it. He was excited, he was burning with desire, he felt totally immersed in this man, both physical and emotionally. But he was far from 'scared.' "Ahhhhh! Damn it, take me, Brian! Oh, God!" he moaned out as the other man bit down sharply on his shoulder a few seconds later, stinging his skin briefly with the sharp pain. But oddly enough, he found it exhilarating and totally erotic to be marked by this man.

Brian was so turned on by the sounds and words pouring out of this incredibly sexy, responsive man under his control. But just who _was_ in control here? He wondered. His memories of their previous encounter, along with his night fantasies of being with Justin again, were nothing compared to the real thing: hot, tight, explosive...almost too much to verbalize. Grasping Justin's waist tightly for leverage and willingly lost in a passionate haze, he pulled back out almost all the way, then plunged roughly back in, biting down on Justin's ear this time, just to hear him moan again in response, even louder this time.

Sensing that neither of them would last long - and wanting his lover to experience much the same pleasure that he was feeling - he slid one hand around Justin's belly to hold him tight, while his other hand reached for his hard, wet, cock, his hand gliding up and down the slippery, thick, shaft to begin masterfully stroking him.

Their hips picked up in tempo as they rocked together, both men now grunting and occasionally moaning as their bodies tightened up, signaling their pending orgasms. "Justin..." Brian breathed out in quickly-measured gasps as they bodies heated up in perfect opposition to the quickly-cooling shower water. "Oh, fuck..." _How could this man do this to him? How could he take him to such heights of pleasure? It was..._ "Can't last...I'm going to..." His hand picked up speed on Justin's cock, gripping it tighter and tighter now as it slid up and down, up and down...

Justin gave as good as he got, pushing back with his ass in perfect timing as he felt his entire body aflame. He wished their coupling go on and on forever, but he knew it was about to culminate in something he had never felt before; at least not with such intensity. "Brian..." he moaned out loudly, his voice echoing around the shower walls. His body wound up like an uncoiled spring, he suddenly exploded in pleasure as Brian gave his cock one last stroke and bit lightly into his neck, his come spurting all over Brian's hand, his belly, and the shower wall in front of him. He heard Brian cry out one last time before he, too, came with a vengeance into the condom, his body sagging against the more slender one as he braced one hand against the smooth, wet tile of the shower wall and tried to regain his composure.

Neither one of them could speak at the moment as Brian remained draped across Justin's back. He took his hand and reached over to turn off the now-cold water of the shower, feeling Justin's chest heaving up and down rapidly, and the sound of his lover's soft, shallow pants of post-exertion, both matching his own.

Finally, he leaned down to kiss Justin's shoulder tenderly, stroking his belly briefly before kissing him on the neck and whispering, "Turn around and look at me."

Justin did as he was asked, turning around in Brian's arms to slowly lift his face to peer into his eyes.

Brian's breath caught in his throat as he gazed down into Justin's face. The recessed lights from overhead reflected in his darkened, bright, blue eyes, making him look so damn beautiful, with his pink-tinged skin, ravaged, soft, lips, and the water glistening all over his body. He was like some Michelangelo painting come to life. "That...That was..." He struggled to speak; he didn't really have the words to adequately express how he felt as Justin blushed in reaction, his hands resting on Brian's chest, and his fingers curled over his shoulder blades. He shook his head in amazement. "I don't even know how to describe it," he finally admitted as Justin smiled back at him drowsily, their fucking having exhausted him, even though they had just awakened from sleep.

"I know," he whispered back, his long eyelashes fluttering. There were droplets of water sticking to them as he blinked back at him. The look on Brian's face filled him with so much emotion. He couldn't quite decipher what it meant, but it was unlike any other look he had ever seen before on another man's face; even those who professed their undying love to him in the after-throes of sex. This was something else, something tenderer and more pronounced. "It was even better than the last time," he admitted breathlessly, still trying to come down from his climactic high.

Brian reached up with one hand to lightly stroke his cheek, almost as if he were trying to memorize every detail of his face, before he leaned down to kiss the warm, wet lips. Their kiss was over much too soon, however, as Brian pulled back after a few moments to tell him, "We'd better dry off and get back out to the living room, before someone comes looking for us."

Justin nodded, a little disappointed but understanding, as Brian led the way out of the shower, reaching over to grab two of the thick, bath-size towels from the nearby warmer. Turning to face Justin, he slung one towel over his shoulder before proceeding to gently dry off Justin's hair and face, stealing one more kiss from his lips before moving onto his shoulders and arms.

"Brian..." Justin gently chided him, feeling much like a child at the moment. "I can do it," he insisted, reaching to grab the towel. But Brian shook his head no.

"I know," he told him quietly, curling his lips under like a little boy who had been caught doing something naughty. "But let me do it, anyway." He stared into Justin's eyes for a moment before, at last, Justin agreed with a nod of his head.

Taking his time, Brian continued to dry Justin off almost reverently, turning him around so he could dry off his shoulders and back, taking his time and making Justin shiver with pleasure as he lightly slid the insanely soft towel over the curve of his buttocks and even in the crease in between, causing Justin to suck in a breath. He twisted his head behind him as he observed Brian stooping to dry off the back of his thighs and legs, before rising and gently turning him back around to face him.

His eyes darkened with desire, Brian continued to dry his lover off, making him tremble as he rubbed circles across his quickly-hardening nipples and then stroking the fabric over his belly, before beginning to travel lower. Justin gasped in realization as he reached down and grabbed Brian's wrist.

"Fuck, Brian! Stop it, or I'm going to come again! I thought you said we had to get out to Gus soon."

His breathing quickened, and he could feel his cock starting to come alive again, merely over the idea of Brian touching him _there_ again.

Sighing in agreement, Brian nodded his head. "I don't suppose you'd like to dry ME off?" he asked slyly, waggling his eyebrows at Justin.

Justin snatched the now-damp towel from Brian and promptly smacked it against his chest as he laughed. "Nice try. I'd like nothing better than to do that," he admitted, as he noticed Brian had the same problem he did. "But you know what will happen if I do, and we don't have time for that."

As if right on cue, both men heard the distinctive sound of someone knocking on the bathroom panel door, and a familiar voice calling out, "Daddy?"

The two men shared an amused look as Brian responded, "Yeah, Sonny Boy?"

"Are you and Justin all clean now? I want to go to the park."

Brian grinned over at his lover, who blushed, as he called out, "Yeah, Buddy. Clean as a whistle."

Outside on the other side of the door, Gus looked down at his chest in puzzlement, reaching down to hold up the wooden train whistle attached to a cord around his neck. He frowned. Was it important that whistles be clean in order to use them? He wondered. Before he could ask his father, though, he heard him add, "We'll be right out, Gus. Go get your soccer ball."

"Yay!" Gus exclaimed in triumphant jubilation, as he yelled back, "Okay, Daddy! Hurry up!" Turning on his heels, he sped off to his toy box to retrieve his lime-green, league-official soccer ball. Next to his trains, that was his most favorite thing in the whole, wide world to play with.

"We'd better get dressed," Brian advised Justin, as his companion picked up his clothes off the floor, wishing he had some other pants and shirts to don. But they would have to do for now. Pecking Justin on the lips, Brian shuffled toward the panel doors to push them open, heading toward his walk-in closet to find a new change of clothes for the park.


	9. A Not-So-Average Day at the Park

_In this chapter: Brian and Justin have a more in-depth discussion at the park, as Justin finds himself more and more ensnared by the Kinney charm. _

"Watch me, Daddy! Watch me; I'm flying!"

From their place nearby on a wooden park bench, Brian smiled at his devil-may-care son, watching his legs kicking frantically back and forth on the swing, as Gus swung higher and higher. "Careful, Sonny Boy!" he called out. "Or you're going to wind up at the moon."

Gus giggled, his brown hair flying in all directions as he swung up and down. "Silly Daddy! I can't reach the moon! That's too far away!"

"Well, if anyone can do it, YOU can," Brian declared under his breath dryly as he continued to watch his son. He glanced over at his companion, who was busily sketching the scene before him, the tip of his tongue occasionally sliding out as his eyes darted back and forth between his paper and subject. Brian wasn't sure whether he was more fascinated with Justin's sketch or the artist himself. One thing was for sure, though; he continued to be impressed with Justin's creative talent, and whether the man was working for a competitor or not, he had to find a way to make him part of his team. He employed nothing but the best, and that definitely described his abilities.

Just then, Justin seemed to feel his stare on him, as he turned his head slightly to peer over at him and flash a soft smile in response. "What?" he asked, cocking his head curiously.

Brian moved to respond, only to have Gus interrupt again; that seemed to happen a lot whenever Justin was around, he thought ruefully.

"Daddy!"

"What, Sonny Boy?" he replied as he turned to glance over at him. Gus had stopped swinging, and was now at the top of the slide, about to come down - head first. "Watch me, Daddy!"

"Gus, no!" he cried out in alarm; too late. Gus went rushing down the slippery slide in record time, coming to rest face down on the hard, dirt ground with an 'oomph' as he flew out the end, completely splayed out on his stomach.

Justin's sketchbook and pencil went clattering to the ground as he and Brian exploded off the bench, racing over to the little boy's side within a few seconds. "Oh, God!" Brian cried out in fear as he and Justin fell down beside him. Brian reached over to gently shake his son's shoulder as he called out, "Gus? Gus, can you hear me?" He looked over at Justin, who was sitting on his son's opposite side, his eyes wide with distress and helplessness, before he looked back down at his son. "Gus? Say something. Come on, Buddy!" Their thoughts instantly returned to that moment about a year ago at the restaurant, and they feared the worst. Not sure what to do, but afraid that his son may not be able to breathe, Brian reached down and ever-so-gently turned his son onto his back, letting out a deep breath when he noticed his son's eyes flutter open.

Gus blinked as he peered up at his father and smiled, declaring breathlessly, "That was fun! I'm going to do it again!" He moved to get up, only to have Brian hold him down firmly but gently by the shoulders as his father shook his head in disbelief.

"No, Sonny Boy, you certainly will NOT do it again," Brian told him with an exasperated sigh. He exhaled a deep breath to calm himself before he pulled Gus up into a sitting position and swept him tightly against his chest into a deep hug, his eyes closing in relief as he felt the strong heartbeat beating through his son's shirt. _Gus, you're going to be the death of me yet,_ he thought silently as his eyes locked on Justin's, both reflecting immense gratitude that this 'rough-and-tumble' little boy was apparently fine, and had just had the wind knocked out of him briefly.

Brian finally pulled back to look at his son. "Are you sure you're okay, Gus?" His son nodded as Brian reached up and gently pulled on the cord attached to his son's train whistle to straighten it up around his neck. "Well, I think it's time we took a break," he decided. "How about we get the kite out of the back of the car and see if we can get THAT to fly for a change instead of _you_?"

Gus giggled over that; Brian thought it was the most wondrous sound he had ever head. "Daddy, I can't fly," he told him.

"Well, not for lack of trying," Brian muttered as he looked over at Justin, who smiled back at him in amusement. He rose to stand, pulling his son up with him, and took a moment to dust him off before he grasped his hand. "Come on, then, Sonny Boy. Let's go get your kite." Gus nodded for a moment, before he reached over for Justin's hand, too. Justin pushed aside his momentary bit of surprise as he returned the grasp, the three 'men' walking back to the car at a more leisurely pace than Gus's 'Superman-style' move down the slide earlier.

* * *

><p>Much too soon, the day began to wane, as the last rays of the sun started to sink under the horizon. In an hour or so, it would be dark, and Brian knew the daylight wouldn't be the only thing likely to end. So would the time he had spent with Justin and his son.<p>

Despite the brief moment earlier when Gus had scared him to death with his head-first slide, he couldn't remember when he had had such a great time. There was just something about being with his son - and Justin - that made all his troubles disappear like rainwater melting off the tallest mountain. He felt all his worries dissipating the longer they were together today. And his son had picked up with Justin right where they had left off back in Tennessee. He had never seen his son so at ease with a virtual stranger like he was with this captivating, younger man. And the fact that Justin treated his son with such reverence and special devotion made his opinion of the man climb even impossibly higher. How could he have ever decided to just ignore what the two of them had forged back in that tourist town? He had monumentally underestimated how much he had missed him, he realized, as he gazed over at the young blond currently holding Gus in his lap as he watched the child sketch a picture for him in his sketchbook.

He had told Gus he wanted a memento of their day together, much like when the three of them had dressed up as gunslingers. But since he didn't have a photographer handy, he decided that Gus could recreate it with a drawing. Gus was no artist, even Brian had to admit that. But to Justin, he appeared to have the talent of all the great, old masters of the past.

Gus finished up his drawing and held it up for Justin to admire as they sat on one of the park benches. "All done!" he announced with satisfaction, his face shining with triumph. Justin peered down at the drawing with a big smile on his face.

"It's wonderful, Gus!" he told him as Gus beamed. "And I know just where I'm going to hang it up after I have it framed, of course. I'll put it right over the dresser in my dorm room at school, so every time I get dressed and look in the mirror to comb my hair, I'll see it hanging there and remember how much fun we had today." He paused. "But you know, there's one thing missing here."

Gus frowned as he searched the picture for any sign of incompleteness. "What?" he asked curiously.

Justin smiled as he held up the pencil. "You need to sign it in the corner," he informed him. "Every great artist always signs his work. Will you do me the honor, Mr. Kinney?" he asked solemnly.

Gus giggled with a nod as he took the pencil and scrawled his name in the lower, right-hand corner. Brian watched, fascinated by the interplay between his son and his lover. _Lover_. Is that what Justin was to him? That sounded a lot more permanent than someone he just wanted to casually hook up with. He knew he wanted more than that from him, even though they hadn't seen each other in several months now. But it was as if the time had never passed. He was so comfortable around him, and so was his son.

He watched as Justin studied the drawing almost reverently, a wistful smile on his face, as he slowly closed the book and placed his hands on top of it, his arms holding Gus close on his lap. "I'll get your drawing framed as soon as I can," he promised the little boy. He looked over at Brian, noticing him sitting quietly on the other bench nearby, his face a picture of thoughtfulness. _What was he thinking?_ He wondered. The intensity of his stare was too much for him, as he felt his face flush and he averted his eyes to gaze out toward the setting sun, his heart thumping in his chest. He had never allowed himself the luxury of thinking he would ever see Brian again, but now like some miracle here he was, back in his life. What did that mean, though?

"Justin?"

He turned his head to peer over at Brian in reaction to the soft tone of his voice as Gus squirmed in his grasp. Gently lowering him to the ground, he replied, "Yes?"

"Daddy, can I go play on the swings for just a little longer?" Gus pleaded as he interrupted.

Brian nodded. "Only for a few minutes, Buddy," he told him as Gus took off running toward the nearby swings. "We'll be leaving soon!" he called after him, but Gus was already seated in one of the swings and beginning to pump his legs to 'fly' again. He smiled as he peered over at his companion, rising to walk over and sit next to him.

"Gus really liked drawing that picture for you," Brian murmured, staring over at the sketchbook now lying on the other side of Justin on the bench.

Justin smiled. "He's a wonderful little boy, Brian." He paused. "He reminds me of you in a lot of ways."

Brian replied, "He does? How?"

Justin smiled as he turned his head to watch the little dynamo swinging higher and higher, as if he didn't have a care in the world. "Well, he takes life head-on with such enthusiasm. He involves himself passionately in what he loves, without holding back. He's...fearless. He takes a bruising from time to time, but he doesn't let that stop him." He blushed as he glanced back at Brian, noticing him scrutinizing him intently. He was afraid he was giving just a bit too much away to this man, and it made him slightly nervous. What if his feelings weren't reciprocated?

To his relief, though, Brian merely nodded, seemingly satisfied if not pleased with his assessment. He winced. "Well, we certainly don't have the same taste in food. Do you realize how much that kid ate today?" He shook his head as he observed his son, swinging higher and higher, his feet kicking out underneath him furiously.

Justin laughed softly. "He must have a high metabolism like me. Daphne's always complaining about how she can gain weight just by smelling certain foods, when I can eat like a horse, and not gain an ounce." His face grew a little sad as he added, "I really miss her."

"She's still back in Tennessee?"

Justin shook his head. "No, she moved back up here to Pennsylvania. But she's living about three hours away with her parents." He grimaced. "She hates living back home again, but it's close to her college where she's enrolled in a pre-med program, and it saves her a lot of money on room and board. The University of Pittsburgh has an excellent reputation for pre-med, but she told me she just can't afford the tuition _and_ the room and board both." He sighed, a lump in his throat. He and Daphne talked pretty much every day - and wrote emails and tests frequently back and forth - but it just wasn't the same.

Brian nodded, noticing how melancholy Justin looked. Apparently he and Daphne were still extremely close. He was secretly thankful for that young woman himself. He was convinced that if not for her, he wouldn't be sitting here right now next to the man he had missed more than he had been willing to admit. He wasn't the _only_ one who had missed him, though. "My son thinks a lot of you," he told him softly. _I do, too_, he wanted to add. But something held him back. Pride? Fear, even? He wasn't sure. He only knew he wasn't yet ready to verbalize it aloud.

Justin's face warmed over the tone of Brian's voice. "Well, he's easy to become attached to." _Father AND son_, he thought to himself.

Brian nodded. "It's funny," he told him. "I never thought I would ever be father material. At least, not in the nurturing sense, anyway. I always knew the mechanical aspects wouldn't be a problem."

Justin gave him a half-laugh in agreement. "No, I can't imagine that it was." Brian was probably one of the most virile men he had ever met.

"Well, it's true." Brian paused before explaining, "When my friend Lindsay asked me to be the sperm donor for her, I thought I would just do my duty by passing it onto her and that would be the end of it; the rest would be up to her." He stopped for a few seconds, seemingly lost in thought, as he mind took him back to the day Gus had been born. He shook his head in amazement. "But...something happened in that hospital room that day. Something I would have never thought in a million years would happen."

"What?" Justin prodded softly. He had been wondering about Gus's birth - how Brian had become a father in the first place. That certainly helped to explain it, and it made sense. To him, Brian didn't seem like the type to question his sexuality, or be confused about his orientation. He always seemed so self-assured to him, so driven and confident about who he was and what he wanted.

Brian was retrospective for a moment before he murmured, "When I was asked if I wanted to hold him, and I took him in my arms and stared down into his face and saw those tiny, little fingers...I don't know if I can explain it. But he just did something to me; something to my heart. From that day forward, all I wanted to do was protect him and take care of him, and shield him from all the bad things in this world. I'm not sure if I knew it meant that I wanted to be a father to him in the true sense of the word...But that is what happened." He shook his head again as if he were coming out of a trance before he turned to look over at Justin, who had remained silent during the entire time. "Does that make any sense at all?" Even HE found it astonishing, especially in light of how horrible his own childhood had been, and how dysfunctional his parents were. He certainly hadn't had good role models to go by, at least when it came to his biological parents. Thank God for Debbie, Michael, and Vic, though; at least they had given him some semblance of what a true family should be, and how you should treat each other.

Justin nodded with a smile. "Yeah...it makes perfect sense to me. You're a wonderful father to him, Brian."

Brian's face grew warm over Justin's praise. "Thanks," he mumbled self-consciously. He let out a deep breath, realizing there was something very important the two of them still had to discuss. "Justin..."

"Yeah?"

"You and I have something we still need to talk about, remember?" He arched one eyebrow expectantly. He wasn't going to just let it drop this time, and thankfully his Sonny Boy would probably be more than content to swing until he either runs out of steam, which would take some time, or until he gets the equivalent of saddle blisters - in a manner of speaking. He suspected in either case that his son would once more wear himself out by the time this day was over, and would be sleeping quite soundly again tonight.

Justin let out a deep breath of resignation. _That subject again... _"You mean about my working for StrataG?" he correctly surmised.

Brian nodded. "Yes...and NOT working for ME."

Justin sighed. "Brian, there's really not much more to say. I told you..."

"I _know _what you told me, Picasso," was the gentle rebuke. "But as I recall, we didn't get too far in our previous discussion, did we?"

"I guess not," Justin conceded. "But I still think I got my point across. As much as I might _like _to work for you, Brian, I just can't up and quit the other company. I signed an agreement between them and the school for my internship."

"Which includes a non-compete clause, no doubt."

Justin frowned as he reflected back on what he had signed. "No, not that I'm aware of. I don't remember signing anything like that, and I'm normally really careful about reading something before I sign it. Besides, I'm just a student intern, not some seasoned artist with a wealth of experience. Why would they need for me to sign a non-compete clause?"

"Well, if they didn't, then they're stupid," Brian growled. "There's a reason why they hired you for the summer, Justin. They know what they have - and I suspect they won't want to give it up that easily, either. That doesn't mean I'm not going to just drop the whole thing, though. Far from it. And trust me; any decent ad agency in town _knows_ my reputation for being obstinate and driven when I want something."

Justin peered over at him thoughtfully. "And you want _me _because you think I'll be some ace-in-the-hole for your business?" he replied. Was that all this was about? Trying to 'wine and dine' him in hopes of finding a way to get him to come to work at Kinnetik? No, he refused to believe that. He _wouldn't_ believe that. Still...the tendrils of doubt began to push their way to the surface.

He held his breath, then, until he heard Brian actually say the words. "That's part of it," he admitted initially. Justin frowned with concern, until Brian reached over to place his hand on his knee, almost as if he were afraid to break their contact. "But that's just part of it. This isn't just a business consideration here. Surely you know that. I can be a selfish bastard, Justin. Professionally _and _personally."

"What do you mean?" Justin whispered back as he looked over at the other man cautiously, not wanting to read too much into his statement.

"Well, if I succeed, I get an amazingly talented artist to help my business continue to grow. And...I _also_ get to see _you_ all the time." Brian curled his lips under almost shyly, which, on a man who normally appeared so self-confident, made him practically irresistible to Justin.

He swallowed, his heart swelling. Did Brian mean what he hoped he meant? "But we hadn't seen each other in months," he pointed out. "I didn't even have a phone number, or even a last name for you. At least YOU knew where I worked. You could have gotten in touch with me before now if you wanted to continue any type of relationship with me." Was his heart reading more into what Brian was saying than his head wanted to?

Brian thought carefully before he spoke again, gazing out to study his rambunctious son who was now grasping a set of metal bars, swinging from them like a scampering monkey. He shook his head in amusement that his son could still have so much energy at this time of day as he heard Justin softly call out his name.

"Brian? I asked you a question."

Brian let out a deep breath as he turned to face his companion and nodded. "Yeah, that's true," he conceded, watching as Justin's face seem to cloud over slightly. "I tried," he told him as Justin furrowed his brow in surprise. "I...I just waited too late," he explained. "I didn't call right away,' he admitted. "And by the time I got around to it, both you and Daphne were gone."

Justin nodded. "Why did you wait so long?" he couldn't help asking.

Brian sighed as he pushed some hair back with his free hand. "That's not easy to explain," he replied.

"Try," was the soft entreaty.

Brian gazed once more out at his son; Gus was his anchor, his ground point, his validation that he was a loving father, a worthy person - someone who could be loved. He turned to stare over at Justin, who was quietly studying him. "I grew up in a shitty home," he tentatively began as he averted his eyes and looked down at the ground in front of him. He lifted his eyes a few seconds, later, however, as he felt Justin silently grasp his hand, providing him with the needed support to continue. "My mother was a frigid bitch, who kept more company with her damn liquor bottles than with me." He took a deep breath and let it out. "And my father?" He laughed derisively. "The only time he really ever gave me any attention - or any contact at all - was when he was beating the shit out of me. And my mother was usually too drunk to do anything about it - or even care."

Justin's eyes grew enormous as Brian began to pour his heart out to him.

"My God..." he murmured at last as Brian paused. "I'm...I don't know what to say." At least HIS parents had never been like THAT. "I had no idea...I mean, you're so good with Gus, and he loves you so much..." Briefly, at least, he temporarily forgot his question about why Brian hadn't tried to contact him; he was simply too shocked to think about it.

"...And I love _him_," Brian responded quietly as he peered over at his son and couldn't help smiling over at him tenderly. He shook his head slightly, almost in disbelief. He will never understand how he wound up so lucky to have a son who idolized him like Gus did, and make him feel things he would have never thought he could feel before. But he would be forever grateful. He inhaled a deep breath and let it out as he turned to stare back at his companion. Justin's eyes were boring into his, making him a little self-conscious. But he couldn't turn his gaze away nonetheless. "More than I ever thought possible," he admitted. At last, he turned his head away, the intensity almost too much to bear.

Justin shook his head sadly, disgusted and horrified by what Brian had just told him. How could anyone do that to a child? In light of what Brian had just revealed, it was amazing that he had turned out to be the loving parent that he was, then. He mentally tried to connect the dots inside his mind. "Are you saying that because of that experience growing up, you have trouble even considering having a relationship with someone else?" He bit his lip as soon as the words were out of his mouth. Wasn't that highly personal and somewhat presumptuous on his part? Maybe Brian didn't _want_ any type of lasting relationship with him. What exactly did they know about each other, and how familiar WERE they with each other? He really knew very little about this other man. Was he being too bold here? Was he just seeing things that he wished were real?

To his surprise, however, Brian turned his head in reaction and nodded at him morosely. "Yeah...that's exactly what I'm saying," he told him. "So...when we said...goodbye, I never really thought I would ever see you again. And for a while, I had convinced myself that it didn't matter, either. I had my job, my kid, my friends; my own world back here. You were just a guy I met and had some fun with."

Justin opened his mouth to protest, only to shut it as Brian quickly added, "...or so I thought." One corner of his mouth quirked upward as he explained, "I found out otherwise."

"You did?"

Brian nodded as he gently pulled his hand away from Justin's and scrubbed his face before letting out a sigh, placing both hands on his knees as he looked over at the younger man. "Yeah. It seems, Mr. Taylor, that the more I tried NOT to think about you...the more I DID."

Justin couldn't help the smile of pleasure that broke out on his face at that thought. "You did?" he repeated.

Brian laughed at his imitation of a parrot. He nodded as he glanced over at Gus, noticing he was now sitting with his back to them in a small, elevated sandbox, using a plastic shovel to scoop up dirt that some kid had evidently brought and forgot to carry home. "You find that so hard to believe?" he asked him.

Justin shrugged. "No, I mean, yes. I mean...oh, fuck! I don't _know_!" It was all hard to imagine, that someone like Brian would have been concentrating on him after all this time.

"Well, why don't I prove it to you, then?" Brian asked softly as he reached over to grasp Justin by the upper arms to pull him closer. Eyes locked on each other, he could hear the blond's breath quickening between slightly parted lips before he firmly pressed their mouths together. His heartbeat instantly increased in response as, at last, he had another taste of the plump, warm mouth he had been craving for so long. This was nothing like his night dreams, however; this was so much better than that. He heard Justin sigh against his mouth as he swiped his tongue across the bottom, lower lip, begging, _demanding_ entrance. He didn't have long to wait, as his felt the lips part a little more in invitation. Quickly sliding his tongue inside, he began a more thorough exploration as Justin's hands slid around his back to pull him in closer.

Only Gus's call for his father nearby finally brought them out of their kiss several seconds later, as they reluctantly broke apart, both men noticing the quickly-darkening skies signaling dusk approaching. When had that happened? Pecking Justin's lips one last time, Brian reluctantly pulled back to call over to his son and ask him to gather up his things to get ready to go home soon, realizing he and Justin still hadn't discussed his employment situation.

Leaning his forehead against the blond's, he whispered, "Stay with me tonight."

"Brian..." Justin's heart was saying _yes, yes, yes_...while his more practical side was saying this was only going to complicate matters even more. He raised his head up to peer into the intense, earnest, hazel eyes, seeing what looked like some sort of vulnerability there. "This doesn't change anything..." he murmured, feeling the other's man breath washing over his skin, and hearing Brian's slow breathing in and out as he looked into his eyes. "I have to stay where I am."

Brian nodded, his fingers slowly kneading the flesh of Justin's upper arms and making his companion a little crazy with desire. He knew what Justin meant. He didn't like it. But for now - for _now_ - he could deal with it. There would be time later to hopefully change that, however. "I understand," he grudgingly ceded. "For the time being," he added meaningfully as Justin rolled his eyes in amusement, figuring that might be his response. "But we both know I'm not talking about business here, Justin. This is pleasure; _definitely_ pleasure."

Justin blushed over the seductive tone of Brian's voice as his pulse raced at the thought. Yes, he knew, and he would be a liar if he said he wasn't looking forward to it. _God, the way this man makes him feel... _He nodded. "Okay," he whispered as Brian smiled in satisfaction. He grinned back at him. "Hopefully you've succeeded in wearing your son out sufficiently," he added, both of them knowing what that would mean for them.

Brian smiled as he glanced over at his precocious child, who was now running alongside the circular merry-go-round instead of riding on it. He watched as Gus hurriedly jumped on board the contraption a few seconds later, squealing in delight as it went round and round at a dizzying speed. "I don't think that will be a problem," he said as both of them laughed. He turned to look at Justin as he added, "Good thing, because I plan on wearing YOU out tonight, too."

Justin turned an even darker shade of red, then. "Brian..." he murmured as his companion waggled his eyebrows back at him playfully. He cleared his throat as he unexpectedly shivered, feeling goose pimples breaking out on his skin.

Brian frowned, feeling his companion jump under his touch. "Cold?"

Justin nodded with a half-smile. "A little," he admitted. It didn't take much for him to get cold, even in the relatively warm air, once the sun began to set. Even as a child, he always wanted the thermostat set a lot higher than the rest of his family. Molly always used to brush up against him on the couch whenever she was hot, proclaiming that she needed her 'ice pack' to cool off after being outside during the summer. He wondered at that moment what she was up back home. He missed his kid sister, and his mother, despite her apparent lack of a backbone. And he missed Daphne as well...

"Hey, where'd you go?" Brian murmured inquisitively, bringing him out of his reverie. He turned to look at the other man and smiled.

"Just thinking..."

"About what?" Brian eyed him thoughtfully; he had noticed a faraway, wistful expression on his face. "Or is it _whom?" _For just a brief moment, he suffered what felt like the telltale pangs of jealousy as he considered whether or not Justin might have been involved with someone else after he had left. It wouldn't surprise him; Justin was an amazing man. But he found that the idea DID bother him.

"Nothing..." he grumbled, feeling a little self-conscious.

"Justin..."

Justin sighed. "I was just thinking about my family...and Daphne. I miss her and my sister...and even my mother."

"No father?" Brian asked softly, curious to know more about this man.

Justin shook his head. "Not one that I care to mention," he replied, suddenly feeling like a knife was wedged in his throat. He let out a huge breath of air. "Can we go?" he asked.

Brian looked at him for a while longer before he finally nodded with a smile. It was obvious for whatever reason that Justin did not want to discuss his family situation any further. Rising to his feet, he reached down to pull Justin up alongside him. "You bet," he told him, still clasping his hand as he turned to face his son. "Gus! Come on, Sonny Boy! Time to go before a giant mosquito flies down and eats you up!"

"Daddy, don't start that again!" was the stern reply as Gus hopped down from the merry-go-round and stood there, hands on hips in exasperation. "I know you're making that up."

Brian laughed then, causing Justin to laugh, too. "Okay, you caught me," he called over to him. "Let's go, anyway. It's starting to get chilly. Pizza on the way home?"

Gus jumped up and down on the balls of his feet, instantly hearing the magic words to make him move. "Yay!" he yelled out, as he came rushing over to them. Pushing his way in between both men, he clasped their hands in his as if it were the most natural thing in the world as he gazed up at Justin. "Justin?"

Justin smiled down at him. "Yeah, Buddy?"

"Do you like pepp'roni on your pizza?"

Justin nodded with a radiant smile. "I sure do," he told him.

Brian groaned beside them. "Why did I already know that?" he lamented as both of his companions flashed almost identical smiles back at him. He sighed in resignation. "Okay, let's get the stomach-churning event over with, then."

Justin laughed as the three of them walked toward Brian's car. "You make it sound like we're heading to the guillotine instead of a pizzeria." The two men raised their hands higher almost instinctively as Gus began to squeal as they swung him back and forth between them.

Brian couldn't help smiling over his son's delight as he replied, "It's pretty much the same thing," he maintained. "Do you know what carbs do to a body when you eat late? They turn you into one of those beer-chugging, football-watching couch potatoes sitting in front of a recliner upholstered with brown velour and flowers."

Justin's laugh and smile in reaction to his statement caused Brian's heart to lurch. He had never seen someone smile like Justin did when he was pleased with something, and he found that he _liked_ that feeling. Glancing down at his son as they reached his vehicle, he added, "Well...I guess I can make an exception this time."

As his son hopped into the back seat and Brian secured him in his booster seat, Justin couldn't help thinking that this proud, self-confident man probably made a lot of 'exceptions' when it came to his son, and he couldn't help thinking just how special that made him. At that moment, he knew he was thoroughly and completely snared in the Kinney trap - by both father AND son.


	10. Rollercoaster of Emotions

_Brian goes from a euphoric high to righteous fury, all in one night. What is the cause of it?_

_Later that Evening..._

"Is...Is Gus asleep?" Justin managed to breathlessly ask as Brian's lips began a fiery trail from his neck down to his now-bare shoulder; when had Brian managed to unbutton his shirt and push it down his arm?

"Mm, hmm," was the mumbled reply against his skin, the buzz of Brian's lips making him shiver - and not due to the chill in the air this time. Actually, at the moment Justin felt more like his skin was on fire, not cold.

He sucked in a breath as Brian's lips traveled back toward his shoulder blade and then over to his neck to forge a wet trail up to his jaw and then return to his lips. As they kissed, Justin felt himself being pushed down onto the couch lengthwise as the two of them got more comfortable. He decided he could get used to this nightly occurrence. Was this happening too fast, too soon, however? He thought back to the conversation he and Daphne had had several months ago - how he was squirreling himself away at their apartment and working much too hard. How he wasn't making any pleasurable time for himself. Well, he seems to be making up for lost time now. Daphne would be proud of him...

He felt Brian pull back to stare down into his flushed face. "What are you smiling at?" he asked in bemusement. "I happen to think my technique is quite worthy of an Oscar."

Justin grinned, his hands currently gripping Brian's upper arms. He could feel the heat of the other man's skin through the expensive silk fabric of his shirt as he replied, "Oh, it is, trust me. I'm just...happy," he finally decided to say by way of explanation. That about summed it up, anyway.

Brian smirked. "Well, I do have that effect on people," he told Justin, who rolled his eyes at him. He squealed in surprise as Brian began to tickle him.

"Stop that!" he admonished him as he squirmed under the other man's relentless attack. "You want to wake up Gus?" Just as they had anticipated, the little boy had fallen asleep quickly once they had left the park; in fact, he was out like a light in Brian's vehicle before they even got back to the loft. It had been a simple maneuver from there to have Brian carry his son upstairs and gently tuck him into bed. The little dynamo hadn't stirred ever since, and that had been a couple of hours ago.

Brian groaned as he felt Justin shifting under him, causing his body to tingle and his cock to tighten in his pants. He had been fantasizing seeing this particular blond lying sprawled naked across the dark blue of his sheets for some time in his dreams; how he wished at that moment that he could see that vision in the flesh - literally. Something told him the real thing was going to be so much more than his dreams could possibly conjure up; he could just picture how Justin's paler skin would contrast so magnificently against the dark color of his expensive, silk sheets. Only problem was, until he dropped his son off at Mel and Lindsay's house tomorrow morning on the way to work, he was going to have to be content with anticipating it only.

"What?" Justin asked as he heard Brian's groan. He reached up to cup Brian's cheek as the brunet gazed down at him intensely, like he was some special, much-desired toy in the window of Bloomingdale's at Christmas. "What is it?"

Brian sighed. "You know I love my son, right?"

Justin smiled warmly. "Of course," he quickly concurred. "No question about that."

Brian nodded. "Well, Sonny Boy is cramping my style," he confessed with a grimace as Justin giggled. "It's not funny, Mr. Taylor," he told him, his voice stern. But Justin knew he could never actually be mad at his son - or at him. "Next time, remind me to impress upon my son the benefits of sleeping here on the couch instead of in my bed, okay?"

Justin picked up on that with interest. "Next time?" he repeated softly. _Was Brian saying he wanted to repeat this on a frequent basis? _

Brian reached up to grab Justin's hand in his as he lay them both on his now bare chest, the shirttails flayed out to either side. "Yeah," he responded as he gazed down into his face. "Next time." He leaned down to steal one more kiss before he whispered against his mouth, "But for now...this will have to do."

For the next couple of hours, the two proceeded to wear each other out, just as Brian had predicted earlier, the brunet eventually rising reluctantly to cover his sleeping, exhausted lover with the same throw as the previous night, before he headed into the bedroom to gather a slumbering little boy into his embrace and fall asleep himself.

* * *

><p><em>Three Days Later - Evening - Pittsburgh Advertising Awards Night<em>

Ted tugged at his tuxedo tie; it felt like a boa constrictor was wrapped around his neck, and the stuffiness in the banquet room wasn't helping. Did any of these pretentious-looking rooms ever have proper thermostats?

"Will you quit squirming like some fucking choir boy at his first communion?" Brian groused from his chair next to him as the winner for "_Best Public Service Announcement_" was announced, the participants politely clapping as a representative from one of the larger advertising agencies rose to accept the award. So far, Kinnetik had won a sprinkling of accolades during the evening, including one for "_Most Humorous Internet Ad_," and another one for "_Most Imaginative Use of Color._" While it was gratifying to be recognized in those areas, the biggest fish was yet to be awarded: the one that was always announced at the very end of the evening, and had so far eluded him - the award for "_Advertising Agency of the Year_."

If Kinnetik could win that award, it would pretty much assure them of a significant increase in business. For the past two years, he had been edged out by his biggest rival - StrataG. If he could just take away the coveted "_Advertising Agency of the Year_" award - even once - he would be a happy man. Well, he decided as he glanced over at the president of the other agency - a man in his mid-50's by the name of Chad Winslow - that there WAS one more thing that would make him even happier: if he could figure out a way to remove a certain talented artist from the man's employ, and bring him into Kinnetik's fold.

"Very dashing, isn't he?" Ted commented dryly, noticing Brian's scowl as he looked over at their biggest competitor. "And look who's sitting with him - isn't that Palmer? My, how HIS creed has risen."

Brian's face darkened. _Fucker. _No, scratch that. It should be _fuckers, plural_. He couldn't believe that Palmer, of all people, was Winslow's partner-in-crime tonight. HE was one of the five best employees he could bring to the most prestigious event for the advertising industry? THAT loser? He wondered how he had managed to finagle his way here. He must have laid one hell of a bullshit speech on him to receive THAT invitation, he decided. It couldn't be because he had sucked the guy's dick; he knew Palmer was strictly a pussy man, and word was that Winslow was the same. No, it had to be some other reason.

But no matter. He knew who was going to be the winner of the big award tonight - and that pompous CEO AND his brown-nosing, no-good slough-off were going home empty-handed this time...or so he hoped. He would never express any of his doubts about that aloud, though.

"Wow," he heard Ted comment as he downed a shot of his Beam and purposely avoided looking over at the StrataG table located at the opposite side of the cavernous room, the event's attendees clapping politely as yet another advertising award was announced. He could care less about the '_Newcomer Award_.' His business was several years beyond that stature; now it was time to cement his position as Top Dog in the industry instead.

Brian sighed. "What now, Theodore?" he asked wearily. "Are the waiters scheduled to sing Pavarotti after dessert?" He grinned at Ted's scowl, that remark clearly harkening back to an earlier, not-so-pleasant time for him.

Ted shook his head as his eyes roamed admiringly over the person walking back toward StrataG's table from the restroom area; he smiled. "Joke all you want, Brian. But they _might_ be - if they wind up serving dessert to THAT particular man," he replied with an appreciative gleam. "I might even have to reintroduce myself to that Palmer asshole - if it means I can get an introduction to _him_. Wonder if that's the new artist they hired?" he mused. He always HAD had a thing for blondes - especially slim, twink-type blondes. And this one was beautiful. "Holy shit," he added as he got a glimpse of the man's suit-clad bubble butt, glancing over at Brian to get his reaction as well. His boss normally seemed to prefer dark-haired types, however.

As soon as Ted's last comment registered, Brian's heart raced as he followed Ted's gaze toward the other side of the room. _No...No fucking way; it couldn't be..._But it was. It was _him. _

Ted frowned as he noticed the almost threatening look that suddenly appeared on his boss's face. "What?" he asked, bewildered. "Don't tell me you've done him already." He smirked then. Of course; that made perfect sense. Hadn't Brian done _everyone_ in town by now?

"Shut the fuck up, Schmidt!" Brian snarled, taking Ted aback. His friend could certainly be irascible at times - even hot-tempered, especially when he felt like his employees weren't giving him 110% - but this extreme type of reaction was not normal even for him. He was downright furious at the moment. Over what? What had he said? He remained silent as he carefully studied Brian's face - his boss's eyes were virtually boring into the back of the other man as the slim blond walked over to Winslow and pulled his chair out to sit down next to him and their party of six. As he did so, his eyes fell upon Brian's, and his face lit up in astonished pleasure; that is, until he saw the fiery look on his face. He furrowed his brow briefly in confusion, then, before both men's attentions were diverted by the master of ceremonies announcing the final award of the night: _Advertising Agency of the Year_.

"And now, the award everyone has been waiting for - the most coveted prize of the evening. Who will be Pittsburgh's Agency of the Year? Will someone finally be able to topple a certain, well-known company from their incumbent perch?" the tuxedoed man was intoning into the mike. He smiled. "I think we all know this is strictly a two-dog fight again this year," he added as the crowd began to murmur in reaction. Yes, everyone knew _exactly_ which two agencies the man was referring to, and everyone was just as curious to see which one came out on top this time. As always, the awards were chosen by a representative sampling of powerful, influential businesses located throughout Pittsburgh, so no one present knew until tonight who had won any of the awards, including this one. Both agencies had increased their business substantially over the past year, and had acquired several, multi-million dollar accounts. So it was anybody's guess which one would triumph over the other.

The crowd grew noticeably silent as the MC reached to accept a white envelope from a long-haired, wispy blond in a tight-fitting, red sequined gown and slid the flap open to read it as the audience waited curiously.

The man smiled with a nod as he lifted his gaze to peer into the spotlights cast upon him. "And the winner...of the _Pittsburgh Advertising Agency of the Year _award goes to..." Everyone groaned as the man took an inordinate amount of time to read what was on the card, before finally the name was revealed...

"Kinnetik!" he announced as Brian's table erupted in jubilation, Ted and Cynthia giving each other high-fives as the other employees at the table clapped and shouted their approval. "Yes!"

"Way to go, Boss!" Ted praised his friend, as everyone else clapped in the room, a few of them whooping their approval that someone had finally toppled the mighty Goliath of the advertising world. "You did it!"

Brian smiled with a nod, pleased that he had finally caught the big prize. He stood up as Cynthia squeezed his arm from beside him and grinned over at him; she knew perhaps best of all what this meant to him. As he pushed his chair back and stood up, his eyes fell upon Justin sitting next to Winslow, and their gazes locked momentarily. He could see a big smile on Justin's face momentarily - a smile for him - causing a returning smile to break out on his own face, before the smile disappeared as Winslow turned to look over at his dining companion, no doubt trying to see who exactly Brian was looking at. To help deflect any suspicion, however, Brian raised his wine glass and offered a quick, toast to Winslow with a smirk, before he placed it down and hurried toward the podium to accept his much-coveted award. Despite his displeasure and disappointment over Justin working for StrataG, the last thing he wanted to do was create any trouble for him. And he had to admit - he had enjoyed taunting the other man just a little.

As he returned to his table a few minutes later and placed the tall, impressive-looking, crystal award now inscribed with Kinnetik's name down onto an empty seat, he turned to stare over at the StrataG table, noticing that Winslow wasn't there at the moment. He longed to walk over and talk to Justin, but there were other employees of the company still sitting there, including Palmer, and he didn't want to make things difficult for him.

"Brian?"

He glanced down at Cynthia, who had a perplexed look on her face; no doubt due to his sense of hesitation.

"Something wrong?" she asked then as he shook his head and forced a smile on his face

"Why would anything be wrong?" he asked. "I'm fabulous; more than fabulous. I finally beat that fucker Winslow at his own game." He cast one last look at Justin, who was gazing back over at him, before he nodded briefly in return and sat back down, placing the award on top of the table as he forced himself to engage his employees in conversation. His mind was racing, however, with thoughts on how he could wind up taking Justin home tonight. The two of them hadn't seen each other since Monday morning, when he had needed to return to work, and Justin had gone back to work at StrataG. Something had held him back from asking Justin to return Monday night. He wasn't quite sure what it was, since he knew he had missed him terribly since they had parted. Was it because he was afraid of giving any man that much power over him? Was it connected to what he had told Justin before - that he didn't really know HOW to love or that he didn't feel like he could be loved himself? Well, whatever it was, he decided that it sucked at the moment, because he hated being on the other side of the room, separated from him.

Sighing, he brushed some hair back from his forehead; he had accepted untold congratulations from several of his fellow competitors since the last award was bestowed - with one exception: Winslow was acting like some spoiled sore loser who had been deprived of his 'inheritance,' and the man hadn't had the guts or good graces to walk over and acknowledge his competitor's accomplishment. Well, fuck him. It didn't matter. What DID matter is that, finally, he and his employees' hard work had been properly acknowledged and had paid off.

Feeling uncomfortably full after drinking three glasses of wine, he pushed back from the table a few minutes later, announcing he had to visit the men's room as he bid his other employees goodbye; he knew they were happy over what had occurred this evening, but were no doubt anxious to leave due to the late hour. Five minutes later upon entering the conference center's restroom, he was standing at the urinal, taking a piss, when he heard a familiar voice speaking from the bank of urinals located on the opposite side of the sink area. Apparently Winslow didn't realize anyone else was in there at the moment - or was too sloshed to care - as he freely carried on a conversation with an unknown party.

"Can you believe that fucker won my award this year?" Winslow growled with contempt. "And after we won the Starlight Account, too! Damn." He shook his head as Brian slowed his breathing down and quietly zipped his linen pants back up. "And I thought we had an ace in the hole, too, with that intern."

A voice that sounded distinctly like Palmer's spoke up then as the man asked, "You mean Taylor?"

Brian's eyes widened slightly at the sound of Justin's name. "Yeah, the fairy artist." Winslow replied with what could only be described as a derisive snort.

"Why...Why do you say THAT?" the other man replied.

Winslow snickered; a sound that made Brian sick to his stomach. "Isn't all that creative shit inbred in them?'" The older man countered. "It must be in their genes. Oh, he hasn't said anything to me specifically; I can just tell." The man sighed. "I guess I can't blame him directly, though, for losing out tonight; he DID help us win the Starlight account. If it wasn't for his artistic talent, though, I would have never kept him on board," he revealed. "Every time I walk by one of them, I'm always wondering if they want to jump me. Makes me want to vomit just thinking about it." He paused for a moment as Brian could hear the sounds of them finishing up their 'business' at the urinals. "Come on," Winslow urged the other man. "I'm ready to get the hell out of here."

Brian heard them quickly wash up and exit the men's room as he continued to stand there, shaking with rage. He had always considered Winslow a pompous, arrogant ass. But he had never figured him for a homophobe and a bigot, too. He curled his hands into fists, his face turning red with fury over what he had heard. He had to tell Justin about this; he knew there was no way he would want to work for someone like that. He walked over and hurriedly washed his hands, studying himself in the mirror. Scrubbing his hands over his face, he stood there for a few moments to try and calm himself down. At least the asshole was apparently leaving; if he wasn't, and the man returned to Justin's side, he would probably coldcock the guy right there where he stood.

Taking a deep breath and straightening up his jacket, he turned and purposefully headed out the door in search of a particular blond. Acting like he didn't know Justin personally was no longer an option now; he had to tell him what he knew.

Now that the final award of the night had been distributed, most of the crowd was quickly thinning out, leaving just a few stragglers amongst the audience interspersed with the wait staff, who were gathering up the multitude of glasses, cutlery, and place settings, preparing to close up the room for the night. His eyes focused on StrataG's table as his face fell in disappointment; Justin was nowhere to be found. Had he left already? He hadn't thought about that possibility. The chairs sitting around the banquet table were now empty. "Fuck," he murmured. He HAD to find him.


	11. A Bright Spot in the Darkness

_Brian and Justin discuss what occurred at the awards banquet - with dismaying results. _

"Looking for someone?" he heard a familiar voice call out to him from a few feet away. He turned around, and he could have sworn his heart stopped beating. Justin was standing near one of the large, potted plants against the wall, a soft smile on his face. He looked incredibly handsome and sexy in his dark, navy-blue suit, white silk shirt, and navy-and-white, pin-striped tie. His hair shown radiantly underneath the recessed lighting above, and his eyes seemed to reflect a thousand pinpricks of color. He was glowing from the inside out, and Brian couldn't help smiling back at him, despite the circumstances.

"Maybe," he replied softly as he slowly walked up to him until they were inches from each other, his previous fury abating somewhat as he stared into Justin's eyes. With most people, this violation of personal space would make them feel uncomfortable; with the two of them, however, it was almost akin to breathing. "What are you doing here, Mr. Taylor? And where did you get that suit? Looks quite expensive on an intern's salary."

Justin grimaced. "It is - I think. Mr. Winslow persuaded one of his employees to lend me one of their suits tonight; there's no way I could have afforded to buy it - or even rent it, for that matter." He flashed a stunning smile back at him. "Wasn't all this exciting, though!" he exclaimed, his face lit up with happiness. "There was so much energy in the room! And you WON _Advertising Agency of the Year, _Brian! Oh, my God! Winslow was fit to be tied when they called out your name; he blabbered on and on all evening about that award, and how he was sure to win again tonight." He laughed. "I thought his face was going to implode when Kinnetik's name was announced, instead!" He grinned. "I was secretly rooting for you the entire time, you know. And I got my wish!" he exclaimed. He quickly flung his arms around Brian's neck and pulled his face down for a brief but deep kiss.

Pulling back after several seconds, he furrowed his brow as he noticed an odd look appear on Brian's face. "You didn't look too happy when you saw me earlier," he observed.

"It wasn't because I wasn't glad to see _you_," Brian reassured him as he placed his hands on Justin's upper arms. "Justin..." He opened his mouth to start to explain what he had heard a few minutes ago, but Justin interrupted him.

Justin chuckled. "I know; you were just surprised I was here with the enemy." He smiled broadly. "Brian..."

"What?" He stared into Justin's face; he looked like someone who had won the lottery. His entire face was flush with excitement as words began to pour out of his mouth in a torrent:

"I...I never thought I would ever be all that interested in an art career that had to do with advertising. But now...Brian, this has been such a _rush_! Being able to work as a team with everyone, and having them take my work seriously...and being asked to come here tonight! Holy shit! Do you know that Marcum was the one who actually called StrataG and asked that I be here tonight as part of their team? He called Winslow and practically _demanded _it! He said I deserved to be here, and obviously Winslow agreed, because he went to all this trouble to get me to come! Brian, he even brought me here in a fucking _limo_!" His eyes grew wide in realization as he noticed how empty the room was now, and he laughed as he put one hand over his mouth temporarily. "Oh, shit! I excused myself to take a look at some artwork they had hanging up in the hallway over there, and I didn't keep track of the time. I bet they were waiting for me to come back for the ride home, and I never showed up! I completely forgot! Now I've been stranded." He peered over at Brian slyly. "Something tells me, though, that I can probably hitch a ride with someone else..." He paused as he noticed a troubled look appear on Brian's face in reaction; was he being too presumptuous? Or was it something else? His eyes grew wide. "Fuck. I know you're not too happy about me working for your competitor, but..."

Brian shook his head as he quickly reassured him, "It's not that, Justin." He glanced around, noticing everyone had practically left by now; only a few of the smartly-dressed wait staff were still remaining, and it was apparent by the condition of the room that everyone would be gone soon; it was almost back to normal now, with no evidence of what had transpired just a short time before. "But I DO need to talk to you about something."

Justin frowned. "Okay..." He bit his lower lip a little anxiously; Brian looked so serious. He should have been euphoric about his award, but he looked more like his puppy had died or something. "What is it? If you can't drive me home, I'm sure I can find a..."

"No. That's not it at all." Brian sighed. Justin seemed so damn happy right now. Apparently Winslow was a consummate actor, and so far he had done an amazing job of hiding his homophobic nature. To Justin, the man was a godsend. "I..." _Shit, what should he do?_ He despised people like Winslow, who spoke out of both sides of their mouth.

"Brian...tell me," Justin quietly demanded. "What's going on?" His eyes bored into the other man's, leaving Brian no alternative but to obey.

"Justin, I was in the men's room a few minutes ago - and so was Winslow and some other guy who sounded like Palmer."

Justin chuckled. "I bet he was thrilled to run into _you_, Mr. Big Shot Advertising Genius."

Brian shook his head. "No, you don't understand," he told him quietly, not returning his smile. "They didn't know I was there; I was on the other side of the sinks. But I could hear what they were saying very clearly." Justin studied him silently as he hesitated. Damn, he hated to tell Justin this, but he had to. He dropped his hands from Justin's arms, brushing his right one through his hair in awkwardness. "Justin...they were talking about _you_."

Justin stared back at him in surprise. "They were?" He smiled. "Were they stunned by my brilliance?" he teased. His smile faded, however, as he noticed the serious expression on Brian's face. "What? Brian, just come _out_ with it! What did they say about me?"

"Well, it was more Winslow than the other guy. I know it was him talking because of what he was saying about my winning the award tonight, and I'd know his voice anywhere." He took a deep breath, seeing blue eyes boring into his. "Justin, I heard him call you a..." Justin frowned slightly as he shook his head in resignation. "Oh, shit," he muttered. He hated this. He took another deep breath and let it out. "He called you a _fairy artist._"

"A what?"

"You heard me, Justin!" Brian said a little more vociferously than he had intended, upset over recalling the man's words in his head. He was still seething inside, and he did NOT want to repeat it again. "He said some other things, too," he hastened to add before he ran out of courage. "He...He said he was only keeping you there as an intern because of how talented you are. But he told the other guy how it made him sick to think about 'one of them' jumping him when he walked down the hallway, or something to that effect." He stared sympathetically into Justin's face, seeing his previous sunny disposition quickly fading. "I'm sorry, Justin," he murmured sorrowfully, trying to decipher his lover's expression. "I wish I hadn't had to tell you that, but I thought you needed to know." Justin remained oddly silent. "Justin?"

Justin shook his head in disbelief. "No...No...He wouldn't have said that. He likes my work. He's always been very appreciative of my contributions. He offered me full-time employment, Brian! And he brought me here tonight. That can't be true..."

Brian reached over and grasped his upper arms again, his fingers curling around the blond's shoulder blades. "Justin, I know what I heard. I didn't misunderstand. He's only being polite to you because he needs your talent, and Starlight's account is dependent upon your being their artist. I know him, Justin. I know people _like_ him. He's a user. He only does things that will benefit HIM. And right now, he knows you're his ace in the hole. That's why he asked you to come here tonight. Only your talent and creativity weren't quite enough to bring home the _Advertising Agency of the Year _award for him this time."

"No..._NO_!" Justin cried out in dismay as he shook his head in denial. "You're just saying that, Brian! You're making that up! You just want me to come and work for YOU! That's what it is! He is not like that!" His face contorted with pain as he pulled away from Brian's embrace and backed slightly away from him. "I can't believe you would do this, Brian. I thought I meant more to you than that. You're _lying_!"

Brian was horrified. This was NOT what he had expected. "No, Justin! Come on!" he reached out to grab the blond's arm, only to watch Justin shrink away. "Don't be a fucking _child_! Would I really lie to you about this? I'm trying to _help_ you here!"

Justin's eyes flashed a dark blue. "Well, I don't NEED your kind of help, Brian, and I am NOT a child!" he exclaimed. "Just leave me the hell alone!"

Brian's mouth hung open. How could he believe that asshole Winslow and not HIM? "Well, you're acting like one right now! Fine!" he shouted back at him. "If you want to work for a bigot, go right ahead! You _deserve_ each other!" Without a look back, he pivoted on his leather Gucci shoes and headed toward the door, leaving Justin standing there in shock as the few employees remaining in the banquet room turned to gape at the spectacle. His face burning - and tears stinging his eyes - Justin pressed his lips together in embarrassment as he quickly headed toward the opposite exit door from Brian, wondering how in the hell he would get home now - and, more importantly, trying to figure out what had just happened.

Only when he had managed to flag down a cab several minutes later - and was sitting in the backseat, alone with his thoughts in the darkness - did he allow the tears of pain and sadness to flow freely down his cheeks.

* * *

><p><em>The Next Day - Kinnetik<em>

"I said, get the HELL out!" Brian roared as he reared his arm back and threw the storyboards at his employee. Wilson barely had enough time to scurry from the room before the material hit the wall with a loud thump, causing one of Brian's paintings to teeter and then fall onto the floor, the glass frame splintering into a dozen pieces.

"Shit," he muttered as he reached for his glass of Beam and knocked it back in one gulp, feeling the sharp burn as it went down his throat. Slamming the glass down onto his desk, he glared over at the door as he noticed Cynthia pop her head in. "What the fuck do you want?" he growled. "Get out."

Cynthia entered the room with a fearless swagger. "That might work on Wilson, Brian, but it won't work on me." She walked up and crossed her arms over her chest as she stood defiantly in front of his desk. "You've been an asshole to everyone today. And I'M the one everybody is bitching to about it. What's going on? You won the big prize last night," she pointed out as her gaze settled on the large, tall, crystal _Advertising Agency of the Year _Award, presently gracing her boss's wet bar on the other side of the room. "You ought to be ecstatic to have finally wrestled it out of Winslow's hands."

Brian's face darkened. "Winslow is a fucking prick and a homophobe," he told her sharply. "He's a scumbag." He had gone home last night, and after drinking himself into a stupor, he _still _hadn't been able to get to sleep. All he did was rerun his conversation with Justin over and over again, trying to figure out if he could have done something differently - or said something else - to convince him that he was being truthful. But he couldn't think of anything else he could have said except the truth. He supposed it hadn't helped to call Justin a child. But his refusal to believe him had hurt him. Why was he letting it bother him so much, though? He didn't care THAT much for Justin...did he?

"Brian?"

He blinked as he lifted his eyes to stare up into his assistant's, realizing he had temporarily zoned out. He sighed wearily, all the bluster and hostility of earlier gone now. "What?" he asked quietly.

"I said...why do you say that? I mean, I know the guy's a pompous jackass and a boor, but..."

He shook his head. "Just drop it, Cynthia," he told her firmly. "Okay?"

She stared into her boss's - and friend's - eyes for a moment before nodding, knowing as usual when it was best to not pursue something further. She knew Brian would never say such an outrageous statement without proof - his career was built upon research and ascertaining all the facts he could about his clients - so she knew he would not make such a statement lightly. HOW he knew, though, was apparently going to remain a mystery for now. She nodded her head finally. "Okay," she told him softly as she turned to go. "But if you need anything...I'm here."

He nodded, brushing his hair back from his forehead as she headed toward the door. "Cynthia?"

She turned around. "Yeah?"

Brian exhaled a deep breath. "Will you pick up those storyboards and take them back to Wilson? Wait a minute." He hurriedly jotted down some changes he wanted made to the font style, size, placement, and color before ripping the paper from a yellow legal pad. "And tell him I want these changes made ASAP, or he can go visit HR and fill out his severance papers."

She nodded with a quirk of her mouth as she walked over, took the piece of paper from Brian's hand, and replied, "Got it." Taking a moment to pick up the storyboards, she turned around to add with a smile, "And I'll call maintenance about your...breakage problem, too." She received a slight smile in return before exiting Brian's office suite, leaving the room inexplicably quiet.

Brian _hated _quiet. Between his son's bubbly nature and Justin's constant chatter when they were together, he had grown used to hearing...noise. Lots and lots of noise. Now, it was way too quiet for his taste. Glancing at the clock, he noticed it was already mid-afternoon. Even though it was mid-week and he did not have custody again until the weekend, his sonny boy should be getting out of school about now, and he suddenly had an urge to see him. He sat there in thought for a moment before he grabbed his suit jacket and headed toward the door.

* * *

><p><em>Same time - StrataG's company headquarters across town...<em>

"Justin?" Kent Boyd stuck his head in the door of the Art Department, looking in the blond's direction. But Justin did not seem to hear him. "_Justin_!" he called a little louder in slight exasperation. Normally, Justin was alert and proactive to what he needed; today, however, he seemed to be totally distracted.

Justin jerked his head up; his face warmed as he realized the head of the Art Department had been trying to get his attention. "I'm sorry, Kent. You needed me?" he asked as the other man walked over to his drawing table.

"Justin, what is wrong with you today? You haven't been able to concentrate on anything I've asked you to do, and that's not like you. Want to talk about it?" The young man's normally happy disposition - and simple joy in working here in his department - was sorely missing today. He leaned over Justin's drawing table, placing both hands on the sides as he stared curiously into his intern's eyes.

Justin sighed. Ever since he had left the conference center last night, he couldn't stop thinking about his and Brian's conversation. He was so confused. All this time he really thought Brian had cared about him. Had he been right all along the first time, though? Had Brian merely befriended him again to try and lure him over to his company? Was he only interested in what he could contribute to his bottom dollar? He had no evidence that Winslow wasn't anything other than what he presented himself to be - a smart, driven, businessman who employed bright, ambitious, and inventive employees. But then why would Brian have said those things? Could he have been that wrong about him; about how he had treated him, how he had kissed him, how he had touched him? How he had made love to him? Because to him, that was what every kiss and every caress had been; it had not just meant having sex, although that had been incredible. No, he had felt a lot more there. He couldn't have been wrong about that...could he? He squeezed his eyes shut briefly before opening them back up again to peer over at the other man.

"I'm sorry, Kent. Really I am. I...I've just had something on my mind today."

Kent nodded. "Well, Justin, I need you to focus on the Trident Sailboat account today. I asked you to have those changes made to the boards an hour ago," he told him as he glanced down at the drawing table, "and from the looks of things, you're still not done. Now I don't know what's going on, but when you come here, you need to leave your personal problems at home. Do you understand?" he asked quietly.

Justin nodded back at him as Kent turned to go. Just as he did, however, Justin stopped him. "Kent?" he asked quietly.

The older man turned around. "Yeah?"

Justin knew everyone else would be back from lunch anytime now; it was now or never. "Can I ask you something privately? I mean, off the record, so to speak, just between you and me?"

Kent frowned at the anxious tone in Justin's voice. "Uh...sure. What do you want to know?"

"You promise this won't go any further than us?" Justin pressed. He _thought _he could trust Kent. He liked the guy, and felt he had always been honest with him. He was counting desperately on that now.

Kent sighed. "Justin...the boards..."

"I know, I know. But please...promise me. It's important, okay?

Kent observed the worried look on Justin's face, and figured this must be at least part of the reason why his intern hadn't been very productive today. "Okay, okay. I promise. Now what do you need to know?"

Justin took a deep breath. "Well...for one thing...I'm gay." He watched to see what reaction he would get from the other man. Would he shrink back from him in disgust? Would he think less of him? He never knew what sort of reaction he would get; not that he made it a point of going around and announcing it, especially in the workplace.

He watched at the other man shrugged back at him. "Okay...So?" He gave him a kind of smirk as he teased, "You're not trying to ask me out, are you? Because I don't swing that way."

Justin shook his head and couldn't help grinning a little in relief over his nonchalant response. "No...it's not that." He let out another nervous breath. "I guess I was just trying to get your reaction."

Kent nodded. "Justin, I could care less whether you fuck women, men...or sheep, for that matter. Not as long as you do your job here. Today, though, you've been in a fog. So why don't you tell me the rest of what's on your mind? I doubt if that was all of it."

"No," the blond told him softly. "I...Kent, I've heard rumors...about Winslow. About how he...how he's a homophobe. About how he only puts up with gays because of their talent and abilities, but how he practically turns around and runs the other way whenever he walks by one. Is that true?" There, it was out in the open now. He held his breath as the other man stared back at him incredulously. Was it because he was surprised he found out about him - or shock over his insinuation?

"Justin, where did you hear THAT?" he asked.

Justin's face flushed. Despite his argument with Brian last night, he wasn't about to divulge where he had heard it. He still didn't want to get Brian into any sort of trouble, although it wasn't like he had been purposely eavesdropping - if it was even true. "I'd prefer not to say," he finally replied. "But someone told me that he had overheard him making those sort of statements, and I need to know if it's true."

Kent furrowed his brow thoughtfully as he stared back at him. "Justin, I don't know who told you that. But I've worked with the guy for two years now, and I've _never_ heard any sort of bigoted talk come out of his mouth. He's never done anything in MY presence to indicate he feels that way. Are you sure this other person isn't just jealous of the guy's success, maybe, and simply wants to make trouble for him? Who is it, anyway; one of the employees here who maybe has some bone to pick with him? You know how employees can sometimes feel out of sorts about something." He snorted. "Talk about biting the hand that feeds you, though..."

"No," Justin mumbled self-consciously; a little uncomfortable that he may have revealed too much, or led him in the wrong direction. "Nobody who works here."

Kent nodded. "Well, there you have it, then. It must be someone who's just envious of our success here." He smiled understandingly. "Justin, advertising can be a very cutthroat business. You can't take everything people say to heart. Okay?" He placed a hand briefly on his employee's sleeve and squeezed it before letting go. "Now if that's settled, how about concentrating on those boards for me? I need them before the end of the day."

Justin sighed with a nod. "Yeah. Thanks. And sorry; I won't let it happen again."

Kent nodded as he turned to go. "No problem. _This _time," he added with a grin before he turned and headed out the door.

Justin watched his immediate supervisor leave, his emotions all tangled up. He was glad to hear that Winslow apparently was NOT a bigot, but he was extremely confused and sad. He still didn't want to believe that Brian would resort to such tactics, just to get him to come to work for him. It simply didn't gel with the person he (thought) he had come to know and lo..._Fuck. Wait a minute! He wasn't really thinking that...was he? _

He scrubbed the palms of his hands against his eyes. "Brian..." he murmured. "What are you doing to me?" he softly lamented. He just couldn't stop thinking about him. He glanced down at the storyboards and sighed. Picking up a graphite pencil, he forced himself to get back to work.

* * *

><p><em>Later that Afternoon...Brian's Loft<em>

"Daddy?"

Brian slowly stroked his son's soft, brown hair, his mind a thousand miles away. He smiled down at his son, who was currently sitting next to him on the couch, watching one of his favorite videos about Thomas the Train. "What, Gus?" he asked tenderly as his son peered up into his face.

"You look sad." Gus reached over and placed one, small hand on his father's cheek. "Why are you sad, Daddy? Don't you like me being here?"

Brian reached up to clasp his son's hand, feeling how small it felt in his. He was so thankful that this little boy was his son. "Of course I like having you here, Sonny Boy. You always make me feel happy."

Gus frowned. "Then why do you have an upside-down smile?"

Brian half-smiled. "An upside-down smile?"

His son nodded. "Yeah...that's what Mommy calls it when someone is unhappy. And you've been wearing one all afternoon. Why?"

Brian sighed. Sometimes, his son was way too perceptive. "It has nothing to do with you, Buddy," he assured him softly as he reached over to snag a little popcorn from his son's red-and-white, plastic bowl and pop a couple of kernels in his mouth. It gave him a few seconds to gather his thoughts as he chewed and swallowed it. How could he properly explain to his son what was going on, when he really couldn't explain it to himself? Yes, he had more or less told Justin to go about his own business and leave him alone, but he hadn't meant it. He initially thought that just like when he had left Tennessee several months ago he could leave Justin behind and not look back. But he soon realized he couldn't back then, and he couldn't now. Yes, he would dearly love to have such a talented artist working for him, but that wasn't the main reason he had told him. This was personal, not just professional. How in the hell was he going to convince Justin of what he had heard, however, when the man simply refused to believe him? He had tried to contact him through texts and phone calls off and on all night and all day, but his cell went right to voicemail, and he was pointedly ignoring any texts he sent him. _Stubborn, pigheaded man..._

He pulled his son into his lap and slid his arms around his waist, placing his cheek against his little boy's head. Somehow not facing Gus made it slightly easier to bare his soul to him. "It doesn't have anything to do with you, Sonny Boy," he assured him softly as he stared over at the expansive windows of his loft directly ahead, the darkness accentuated only by the streetlights below. "I...I guess your Daddy has just had a long day, that's all." He didn't really want to burden his son with his problems. But even so, he soon found out he wasn't the only one who had Justin on his mind.

"I miss Justin," he heard Gus say unexpectedly as he pulled back to look his father in the eyes. "Is he coming back to visit us again soon? He paints good. And he's really nice to me."

Brian swallowed hard as his grip tightened imperceptibly around his son's waist. He smiled wistfully. "Yeah, he is a good 'painter.' I miss him, too, Gus." He paused for a moment. "I don't know if he'll be back or not," he answered honestly.

As the video ended and the credits began to roll, Gus stared expressively into his father's eyes. "He'll be back," he told him confidently.

"You think so?" he asked him quietly, desperately needing his son's innocent confidence.

Gus nodded his head vigorously.

"How do you know, Sonny Boy?" Brian asked him as his son placed his hands against his father's chest. The ever-present whistle was hanging around Gus's neck, making Brian's heart both ache in reminder, but also feel just a bit hopeful at the same time.

"Because Justin's our friend," he told him. "And friends don't just leave and not come back. Maybe he had a long day, too, Daddy. Why don't you call him and see if he can come over and visit now?" He reached over and retrieved his father's cellphone from its place on the side table and held it out to him.

_I wish it was that easy, Sonny Boy, _Brian thought silently. There had to be SOME way to get through to that man. Some way that would convince Justin that he was telling the truth, and he hadn't made up what he had heard. His eyes widened slightly as a thought suddenly occurred to him. _Yes, that just might work..._

For the first time that day, Brian Kinney smiled.


	12. Second Thoughts

_Brian hatches a plan for the truth to come to light. Justin has second thoughts about his decision. What will he _

_Across town - Justin's dorm room_

"Fuck!" Justin cried out in frustration and disgust as he flung his graphite pencil across the room and slammed his sketchpad down onto the twin-sized bed in defeat. The residence hall was quiet at present, with most of the students taking the summer off. Fortunately as part of his grant, while he was in school his room was covered even during the summer as long as he was involved in either classes or an internship, so his present duties at StrataG covered that requirement. He had been trying for the past hour now to do some drawing to no avail; a certain, dark-haired man kept invading his thoughts. Sighing, he reached over and pulled open his small nightstand drawer to retriev 7" photo in a simple frame, cradling it in his hands as he peered down into a trio of faces. That had been such a wonderful day back then with Brian and his son. What had gone wrong?

He kept replaying over and over again his conversation with Brian - and then his subsequent one with Kent earlier today. Which version was correct? In a way, he actually had known Kent longer than he had known Brian, if you counted it in actual hours spent with them. But each man was telling him a completely different story about the CEO of StrataG. One pictured the man as a bigoted asshole, while the other painted him with a much more positive, tolerant brush. He couldn't be both. So who was the REAL Winslow?

He bit his lip in indecision. When it came down to it, no matter who was telling the truth, he couldn't deny that he was missing Brian terribly. He missed Gus, too. The three of them had become almost a makeshift family lately - until last night. He found it so hard to believe that Brian was only interested in profiting from his talent. But on the other hand, how much exactly did he know about him? He knew the man was a loving and faithful father to his son; no one could fake that type of devotion. But he was also a driven businessman; a very _successful_ businessman. He doubted that Brian had gotten to that point by being wishy-washy and a prevaricator. Would he go to this extreme of a length, however, just to snag an artist he wanted to employ? Could he be that ruthless? He shook his head. It just didn't make sense. Brian had never seemed that way to him. So why had he been so ready to believe that last night? Was it the shock of it all? Now that the element of time had passed, his suspicions were growing stronger and stronger that he might have been hasty - and wrong - in his suppositions.

Gazing one last time at the photo, he carefully returned it to the nightstand drawer before reaching for his cellphone lying on top of the mattress beside him. Swiping it to unlock it, he searched his contacts and hunted for Brian's number, his finger poised over the speed dial as he found it. But something still made him hesitate. Would Brian even want to speak to him now, anyway? "Damn it!" he growled as he dropped it back down onto the mattress, only to jump slightly went it began to ring. Was this some sort of spooky ESP thing going on here?

Glancing down at the caller I.D., however, he noticed with some disappointment that it wasn't whom he had been anticipating, but he wasn't too upset when he realized who it was. As he hit the button to answer it, the person on the other end did not give him a chance to issue any greeting before speaking up.

"Okay, what's going on?"

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me," was the motherly retort. "I don't have to be there to see your face, Justin Taylor, to know that something is bothering you. What was up with that last email you sent me an hour ago?"

"Nothing," Justin insisted, although even to his own ears that sounded lame. "What do you mean?"

Daphne sighed on the other end of the line. "You never send me an email lately without going on and on about what you and Brian and his son have been doing, and you didn't say one word about him this time. And you practically ignored that hoity-toity awards banquet you attended, even though you couldn't help gushing about it beforehand. _The weather's been real nice here lately?" _she quoted him with a snort. "You NEVER talk about the weather! So what's the deal, Justin? You know I'm going to hound you until you tell me," she warned him.

"Daphne..."

"I'm waiting..." He could almost see her tapping her fingers on her desk as she spoke, just like she normally did when she was either impatient or frustrated with him. At least that made him smile for a few seconds. There was dead silence on the other end, however.

Justin groaned as he flopped down onto his back. He knew that tone of voice. He sighed in defeat. "Daphne, there's nothing you can do," he told her, unable to keep the sadness out of his voice.

"Why don't you let ME be the judge of that? Justin..."

Justin inhaled a deep breath and let it out. "Well...Something happened after the awards banquet," he began.

"Okay...that's a start. Details."

* * *

><p>"Oh, Justin," Daphne murmured sympathetically ten minutes later after her friend had spilled his guts to her about everything. "I'm so sorry." She paused for a moment before asking softly, "Do you really think Brian would do that, though, just to get you to come work for him? I saw the way he was around you down in Tennessee. I know the two of you only saw each other for a few days, but I think he really cared for you - and I know you cared about <em>him. <em> You did nothing but mope around the apartment after he left. How do you reconcile that with what happened the other night?"

"I don't _know_!" he cried out. He closed his eyes in anguish, the vision of Brian and his son uppermost in his mind. "I...I just don't know what to believe! Kent told me that Winslow..."

"Justin, how much more do you know about this Kent person than you know about Brian? You've had a lot of experience working with people, and you've always been a good judge of character. What does your common sense say? What does your _heart _say?"

"What if it's two different things?" Justin asked her softly, clearly torn. "Brian could have had some very sound business reasons for saying what he did," he pointed out.

"Yeah...maybe," she conceded with a sigh. "That's a tough one," Daphne admitted. "But I still don't think that was his motive, Justin."

"I miss you, Daph," Justin murmured mournfully, his hand cradling his cell as he stared up at the ceiling in indecision. "I wish you were here right now to help me sort through this."

"Me, too," she told her friend wistfully as she walked over from her desk and plopped down on top of the mattress in her bedroom back at her parents' house. She loved attending pre-med school, finding it a great challenge and extremely fascinating, but she missed her best friend. She missed his lust for life, his constant chattering, his zaniness, and most of all, the way he could always read her so well. And she missed her independence. "I'm so happy that you're attending art school, Justin. But I hate this separation." She smiled. "It's too quiet around here. I miss having you throw a pillow at me in the morning to wake me up, and bringing me my hot chocolate with marshmallows in bed. And I miss you hogging all the hot water in the morning."

Justin smiled. "I miss all your girly-girl stuff lying around. It's just not the same, being able to walk around unhindered in the bathroom without stumbling over your blow dryer, hair curlers, and ten brands of hairspray you always kept in the medical cabinet."

"I did NOT have ten kinds of hairspray in the medicine cabinet."

Justin grinned. "Okay, maybe seven or eight, then." He sighed. "But I do miss you, Daphne. More than you could ever know. You were always there for me and telling me what to do. Boy, could I use that right now."

"I never managed to 'tell you what to do," Justin," she reminded him quietly. "You always did have a mind of your own. I just helped you to think things through so you could make your own decision." She paused for a moment. "We'll always be together, no matter where we go," she reassured him. "But for now, it's your turn to fly solo for a while. I'll always be here for you on the other end. Do what you feel in your heart is right. I know you'll do the right thing; you always do. And who knows? Maybe I'll drop down sometime and pay you a visit when you're least expecting me."

"I would LOVE that, Daph!" Justin exclaimed. "Really? When?" he pressed her hopefully. "I'll sleep on the floor if I have to!"

"And miss your beauty sleep?" she teased him. "That would be a first. You really MUST want me to come and see you, then."

"Hey! I resemble...uh, resent that," Justin quipped. "Who wound up with the bed, huh? It wasn't me." He couldn't help smiling as they bantered back and forth, and he heard his best friend giggle at his retort; this is what he missed the most. But it would never be the same over the phone.

She laughed. "Well, it's the truth!" she countered. She paused. "I don't know when just yet. But someday soon; I promise." She grimaced. "First I have to get some time away from school. And then I have to persuade my parents to let me drive down on my own. Ever since I took off and then came back, they're treating me like I'm a ten-year-old."

"Daph...I need you," Justin told her sorrowfully. "It's just not the same without you."

Daphne felt tears prickling the back of her eyes as she told him, "I know. Ditto." She sighed. "Look, Justin, I have to go. My parents are expecting me downstairs for dinner. They insist on 'family time' so we can bond," she told him dryly. "Ugh. But listen to me. I have confidence in you. You will find out the truth, and you will do the right thing. You always do. You hear me?"

"I hear you," he told her softly. "I just wish I knew what that was right now."

"You will. I _know _you will. I love you, Justin. Hang in there."

"I love you, too, Daph. You, too."

As he disconnected the phone a few seconds later, he closed his eyes, his mind inevitably and inescapably drifting to a certain, dark-haired man and a joyful, rambunctious miniature version of him. It would be a long time before he finally was able to go to sleep that night.

* * *

><p><em>The Next Day - Delmonico's Restaurant - 12:00 p.m.<em>

Brian stubbed out his most recent cigarette as he wearily pinched the bridge of his nose. He was bored just sitting here in his car, but he was determined NOT to move until his target arrived. Cynthia had certainly given him an odd look when he had asked her to phone StrataG, pretend to be one of Kinnetik's disillusioned clients (which, incidentally, was a bald-faced lie; Lance Software was one of their biggest supporters, in fact), and set up a meeting between the company's "CEO" and StrataG's newest advertising executive, whom, she said, her CEO had asked for personally. He smiled. The man was just way too gullible and naïve. All he had to do was have Cynthia gush about how 'her CEO' had remembered Palmer from his days at Ryder's Agency, and the man was practically stumbling over his fucking feet in an attempt to set up a meeting here at Delmonico's.

Their meeting was scheduled for 12:15, which should hopefully be perfect timing for what he had planned. A car pulling into the rather small, side parking lot of the restaurant just then caught his eye, and he smiled in triumph a few seconds later as he noticed a familiar figure emerge from the plain-looking sedan, carrying a briefcase as he hurried toward the front entrance. Exiting his own vehicle, Brian straightened out his jacket, slipped his mirrored glasses on, and walked over to the entrance, fast on Palmer's heels.

Entering the restaurant several seconds later, he had just enough time to catch the other man being directed to a table in the corner, no doubt thinking he was about to spread out his materials and knock the socks off the CEO of Lance Software, before he turned toward the hostess station. _Well, guess again, fucker_, Brian fumed as he removed his sunglasses and slipped them into his suit jacket pocket. "I'm meeting someone; I'll seat myself," Brian informed the hostess as she returned and nodded at him. He strode confidently over to Palmer's table with a smirk; the man had his head down, organizing his paperwork, and did not see his approach.

The smile that Palmer flashed as Brian stood over the table and cleared his throat promptly disappeared to be replaced with a glare as Palmer realized who it was. "What the hell do YOU want?" he snarled.

Brian promptly pulled the seat out opposite the other man's and sat down to stare over at him with a fake smile. "I'm here to see StrataG's representative," he told him. He turned his wrist to check the time on his Rolex watch. "You're very prompt, Palmer. I like that in a man."

Palmer peered over at him in dismay. "What the fuck are YOU doing here, Kinney? Don't make yourself at home," he hastily added as he glanced over at the door expectantly. "I'm here on a business meeting." He smiled smugly to himself. _If only Kinney knew with whom..._

"You can wipe that silly ass grin off your face," Brian growled. "Did you really think that Robert Lance would want to deal with some second-rate sniveler like _you_?" He snorted in contempt as the other man's face turned red in comprehension.

"YOU set up this meeting with me?"

Brian smirked as he cocked his pointer finger at his temple. "Bingo. You DO have some momentary flashes of intelligence from time to time." He guffawed. "You must really have Winslow fooled. But then you heteros have to stick together, don't you? Can't have us queers lining up against you. We all know how many 'creative types' inhabit advertising agencies...don't we, _Buddy_?"

Palmer's eyes widened as he felt the beginning pangs of dread. "I don't know what you're talking about, Kinney. I don't have time to deal with the likes of you..." He began to rise from his seat and hurriedly push his paperwork back into his open briefcase, only to have Brian grab his arm and yank him back down, earning a few curious stares from some of the other patrons of the restaurant seated nearby.

"Sit DOWN!" Brian demanded, lowering his voice to avoid garnering any more attention. "We have some things to discuss first. If you want to keep your job with your big shot bigot, that is."

Palmer bristled despite his apprehension. "What are you _talking_ about? Fuck, you're crazy!"

"No, YOU'RE the crazy one, if you think your little stunt the other day is going to go unnoticed. You and Winslow weren't the only ones in the men's room at the awards banquet." He grinned in triumph as Palmer's face turned ashen in realization_. So it WAS him, just as he thought._

"You...You overheard us?"

"What do YOU think?" he snapped. He leaned back in his chair as the waitress walked over to place a couple of glasses of water down on the table, asking if they were ready to order. She hurried away, however, as he told her sternly to give them about fifteen minutes because they were 'conducting business,' noting the deadly serious look on Brian's face before she nodded and said she would come back then.

As soon as she was gone, however, Brian did, indeed, 'get back to business.' "Listen to me, Palmer. If you want to keep your ass-kissing job with Winslow, you are going to do as I say."

Palmer's brow narrowed in wariness. "What do you want, Kinney?"

Brian stared daggers into his eyes. "In a few minutes - if a certain someone's lunch schedule holds up - you're going to tell your 'fairy artist' co-worker exactly what Winslow said to you that night about him. Or...I go straight to the head of the Human Resources Department - whom I know personally, by the way - and I tell him exactly what sort of 'research' you're doing during the day when you're supposed to be working."

"You can't DO that!" Palmer cried out, his eyes wide with fear. He had had enough trouble securing the job he had; if he was fired, his name wouldn't be worth anything in the tightly-knit advertising community, at least not with any of the big-name players. And certainly not if word gets around that the CEO of Pittsburgh's _Advertising Agency of the Year_ was behind his getting fired. "I need my job!"

Brian smiled. "And you can keep it. But NOT unless you tell Justin what Winslow said to you the other day."

"Why the fuck do YOU care, Kinney?" Palmer retorted with his last remaining ounce of chutzpah. "It doesn't affect _you. _He's just a kid._" _

Brian wasn't about to go into the details of just how much it DID affect him; not with THIS low-life. "That's none of your fucking business," he hissed under his breath. "You just do what I say. Or I will be giving Benson in your HR Department a call before you can take so much as one step outside this place. Do you understand?" Palmer seethed from across their table in silence, much to Brian's displeasure. "I said - do...you...understand?"

"Yes, Yes!" Palmer snapped in irritation, glancing around as an older couple scowled at him in disapproval. His face red with both anger as well as embarrassment, he answered a little quieter, "Yes, I fucking understand! But how do you know Taylor will even BE here today?"

"I don't," Brian admitted. "But you'd better pray that he keeps his regular lunch habit today - or we will be making a visit to your office together. I don't think you would enjoy that."

Palmer sighed in dismay and defeat. "No," he told him glumly as he hung his head in his hands. The ringing of the diner's bell over the door - signaling someone entering the restaurant - caused both men to turn their gaze toward the entrance, and Palmer closed his eyes in dread. It seemed that Taylor's predilection for Delmonico's - and his consistency in arriving at the same time each day - was working in his disfavor today; his co-worker was standing near the hostess stand, waiting for a table.

Brian stared over at him while his heart pounded in his chest. As always, Justin looked amazing. He only hoped he would give him a chance to explain what was going on before he turned tail and rushed away to avoid him. He was NOT going to let that happen, no matter what. This was his only chance to make Justin see what was really going on, and prove that he had been telling the truth. It was now or never. If Justin rebuffed him this time, he was not going to go through this again.

Just then their eyes met, and he watched Justin's eyes widen in surprise. Two seconds later, he watched in dismay as the blond did exactly what he feared he would do: he turned around and headed toward the door.

"Stay here!" he commanded Palmer as he pointed his finger at him. "And don't you fucking move!" Leaving no room for argument, he quickly scooted back from his seat and took off after his lover.

"Justin!" he called out as he hurried out the restaurant's door and spotted him hurrying down the sidewalk. "Don't you fucking walk away from me!" he growled, but the stubborn man kept walking anyway. He wondered briefly why he was going to all this trouble, but somewhere deep down he knew the reason why; he just didn't want to acknowledge it yet.

His longer legs served him well, fortunately, as he quickly overtook Justin's shorter ones. "Did you hear what I said?" he growled as he grabbed Justin's arm a little more roughly than he intended to. "Are you deaf in addition to being pigheaded?"

Justin snatched his hand away from Brian as he turned around, his eyes flashing. "I heard you just fine! What are you doing here?"

Brian sighed heavily. "You're going to march back in that restaurant, Justin, and talk to someone I know and despise."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

Brian restlessly brushed his hair back from his forehead. If he didn't care so much about this...this incredibly bullheaded man - and if his son hadn't grown to adore him as well, he would just forget it. He had never had to work so hard to impress a man before. "Justin...come on. Fifteen minutes. Fifteen minutes, and if you want to leave and never talk to me again - and continue to work for someone who despises who you are and _what _you are, then fine. You'll never see me again. But be careful what you decide. Because I am NOT going to try and prove I was telling you the truth again. You're going to have to decide whether to trust me or not on this."

Justin eyed him warily, but Brian thought he saw the hard shell cracking just a bit. "Who _is_ this someone?"

"Will Palmer. The other man who was in the bathroom with Winslow. I'm sure of it now, even though I couldn't see him at the time. I used to work with the guy, and I know his voice. And he just admitted to me that it _was _him. So come in and talk to him. Listen to him, and you can make up your own mind. Isn't it worth it to learn the truth one way or the other, Justin? Would I be going to all this trouble otherwise?"

Justin's mind wandered back to his discussion with Daphne. She had said to use his good judgment and to listen 'with his heart.' He wanted to believe Brian; he _needed _to believe him. Was it just possible that Brian HAD been telling the truth after all, and the image Winslow had presented to him had been a total lie? Perhaps HE was the driven one who would do anything to gain business; NOT Brian.

"Justin?"

He stared into Brian's face, his eyes hypnotizing him into a momentary trance. At last he nodded, his previous bluster dissipated. "Okay."

_That's all I need, _Brian decided as he nodded. He placed his hand lightly against Justin's back as the blond turned and headed back into the diner with him, finding it reassuring that Justin didn't resist his touch this time. As the two of them re-entered Delmonico's and Brian focused his attention on the spot where he and Palmer had been sitting, however, his heart sank. The seats were empty.


	13. You Can Run, But You Can't Hide

_Palmer doesn't get far in his attempt to get away. What will Justin do with the information, now that he knows the truth at last?_

"Shit!" Brian cried out in disgust. "Fucking bastard! I told him to stay put!" He whirled around to face Justin, who was staring back at him with an indecipherable expression on his face. Skepticism? Surprise? Doubt? He wasn't sure. "He was here," he maintained, lifting his hands helplessly in frustration, palms face up as he frantically looked all around the room. "Damn him!" Turning again to Justin, he implored his lover, "Stay here! And if you see that asshole, don't let him out of your sight, okay?"

He noticed the hostess had an odd look on her face in response, no doubt, to all the drama occurring in front of her as Justin finally nodded back at him in agreement. "I'll be right back," he promised him as he turned and rushed out the door, just in time to spot Palmer heading toward his car. "Oh, no you don't," he growled as he ran as fast as he could in the direction of the sedan approximately twenty feet away. "You are NOT getting away from me!" Palmer, fortunately for him, turned out to be anal when it came to his safety, and took just a pivotal moment to latch his seatbelt before he started the car, providing Brian with just enough time to reach the vehicle and yank the driver's side door open. "Get out," he told him with deadly calm - at least at first. Palmer's face turned white as he slowly turned to face the man looming over him, noticing the darkened eyes of fury, and a vein bulging out of his adversary's neck.

When his request was met with less than expedient haste, Brian's voice rose. "I said...get...OUT! Or I'll _pull_ your ass out! NOW!" Not waiting for him to comply any longer he reached down and grabbed the man's upper arm for emphasis as Palmer winced in reaction.

"Hey, that fucking hurts, Kinney!" he snapped with one last act of bluster. "Let me go!"

"You're _going_ to be hurting from head to toe if you don't get out of the fucking car NOW!" he roared, as he reluctantly released him. "You have five seconds, you asshole. One...two...three..."

"Fuck!" Palmer let go of his seatbelt and slid out of the car; he could almost feel the heat of fury rolling off Kinney as the other man grabbed his elbow and began to steer him back toward the restaurant, his nervous companion none-too-willingly following alongside him.

As they reentered the restaurant, Justin's eyes widened as he turned around and noticed the two men approaching him. The hostess, too, eyed the two man warily, noticing the red face of the more attractive one as he walked up to her and offered a fake smile. "Table for three," he told her politely. "And make it somewhere private."

She frowned, but nodded as she led them to a different location in the restaurant in a rear area, currently devoid of any patrons, since they normally filled up the main dining room first. "Have a seat, and I'll get your drink orders," she told them as she placed a trio of laminated menus down on the table.

"No need; we're not very thirsty," Brian told her as he made sure Palmer sat down. Justin took a spot on the opposite side of the table as Brian sat down beside him. He reached inside his pocket and drew out his wallet, slipping two twenties out to place them down on the table. "Give us fifteen minutes," he instructed her. "We don't need any service yet."

She licked her lips a little apprehensively - wondering if this was some sort of drug deal going down, or some other nefarious sort of activity - before she finally nodded again and walked away, leaving the three men in private.

Brian waited just long enough for the woman to get out of earshot before he spoke up again. "Okay, Palmer. I should have smacked the hell out of you at the car earlier. But I need you somewhat coherent to tell Justin here what Marcum said to you in the men's room the other night. If you play nice - and tell him the truth about what happened - fuck knows why, but I'll still hold up my end of the bargain. If you don't, you know what the result will be. We'll all be taking a nice, little trip back to StrataG to have a talk with the HR Department about your extracurricular activities. Now out with it!"

Justin wondered just what sort of 'extracurricular activities' Brian was referring to, but he could tell Palmer was scared shitless over Brian's statement; his face paled as he took a deep breath to steady himself before he focused his attention on him and sighed in resignation.

"Marcum and I were in the men's room after the last award had been given out, and he started complaining about how StrataG had been passed over for the _Advertising Agency of the Year_ award, and how he thought he had it in the bag this year. He said he thought that his intern would be his 'ace in the hole.' When I asked him if he meant you, he said..." Palmer hesitated as Justin's eyes bore into his, making him decidedly uncomfortable. "He said yes."

"Tell him the rest, Palmer," Brian demanded, watching Justin intently. He hated like hell to have to repeat this again with him, but it was necessary.

Palmer took another deep breath, wiping his sweaty palms on the thighs of his linen pants, before he added, "He said, yes...and called you a 'fairy artist.' When I asked him how he knew that, he just said that 'he knew.' Something about how all that creativity was 'inbred in them,' and then he said that if you...if you weren't so talented, he would have gotten rid of you by now, because..." He grabbed some hair on his forehead and pushed it back. "Fuck. He said that he was afraid to walk down the hallway, because he thought 'one of them' would jump him." Justin's lips pressed into an angry line and his eyes watered in disbelief as Palmer added, "I'm sorry, Justin. That's NOT the way I feel. I don't give a shit WHAT you are. But...I need my job! And...and I can't afford to fuck this one up." He sighed again. "That's...that's about all he said. He hasn't said anything else about it since then." He snorted. "I'm not exactly in his A Team, though. He only let ME come to the awards banquet because someone else got sick, and he didn't have anyone else to replace him at the last minute; at least that's what I heard afterward. I guess it wouldn't do for Marcum to have an empty chair at his company table. After all, he has a reputation to uphold." He swallowed hard as he turned to look over at Brian. "Can I go? My lunch hour's almost over, and if I get back late..."

Brian smirked. "Oh, we wouldn't want your job to be at risk," he agreed before his face darkened with anger again. "Get the hell out of here, Palmer." Palmer couldn't leave fast enough; as soon as the words were out of Brian's mouth, the man quickly scooted back from his chair, grabbed his jacket that was hanging on the back of it, and rushed off toward the front door; all within ten seconds' time, leaving Brian and Justin alone.

Brian eyed his companion studiously, trying to ascertain what he was thinking. But Justin merely sat there, his hands clasped together on the table as he stared down pensively at the red-and-white, checkered tablecloth. "Justin?" he finally said quietly as he remained silent. "Are you okay?" He reached over to grasp his wrist, seemingly bringing his companion out of his trance as Justin lifted his eyes to stare into his. The blue orbs were awash with restrained tears, and Brian's heart clenched in sympathy. At last, he knew that Justin believed him and understood. "Justin..." he murmured.

"All this time..." Justin began, his voice hoarse with emotion. "All this time I thought he liked me for who I was, and respected me for my accomplishments. I thought he _valued_ me. But he only valued what he could get out of me for his company's bottom line." He shook his head in disgust. "How could I have been so fucking stupid, Brian?"

Brian's previous disappointment and anger over Justin not believing him the other night promptly melted away as he peered into the other man's sorrow-filled face. "Justin, you didn't know."

"But I DID know!" he cried out, ashamed. "You told me the other day, and I didn't believe you. What an idiot I am! I never suspected anything. I even asked my Art Director confidentially if he knew whether Marcum felt that way, and he told me as far as he knew he wasn't like that." He cradled his head in his hands in disgust. "I can't believe this," he murmured in disbelief. "Shit."

He lifted his head after a while as he felt Brian's hand resting on top of his crown, almost afraid to see what his expression would be. He should be both ashamed of him, as well as mad as hell over the fact that he hadn't believed him all along. To his shock as well as relief, however, he didn't see that there. He only saw sympathy and something else he couldn't quite decipher. "Brian, I'm sorry," he whispered. "I should have never questioned you. Why did I believe him over you?"

Brian's hand moved to cup his cheek lightly, brushing his fingers over the slightly stubbled skin and feeling a little bit of wetness on Justin's face, despite his companion's attempt at staying stoic. "Justin...it's going to be okay," he murmured, a little surprised that all his anger had seemingly disappeared now. He felt a ground swelling of emotion churning inside him, and he continued to be astounded by what this man did to him and how he made him feel. He seemed to be rewriting all the rules where his life was concerned. "I...I can understand wanting something so badly that your heart doesn't want to accept what your head is trying to tell you." He shook his head slightly as Justin stared over at him silently, the inkling of tears staining his eyelashes as he blinked. "Fuck knows I've been in those types of situations; at least where I wanted something so much that I didn't see what was right in front of my eyes," he told him tersely. He could recall so many times where he could almost taste something he wanted so desperately - at least in the advertising world - only to have it snatched out of his grasp at the last minute. That was part of the reason why he felt so much more satisfied and fulfilled now by overseeing his own company. He could operate it the way HE saw fit; not as others mandated he do.

"You have?" Justin whispered, a little surprised. "You always seem so strong to me; so sure of yourself."

Brian smiled. "It's all a façade, Justin; a game. You don't let the other guy see how it affects you. You never show your weakness to them, no matter what. Besides, that fucker Marcum isn't worth your time - or your talent."

"I know," Justin bemoaned. "But I really needed that internship."

"In exchange for working with someone who ridicules you behind your back? Justin, you're work is worth more than that. Would you be happy working there now, knowing what you know?"

Justin's lips drew into a straight, thin line. "No...of course not," he told him quietly. He reached up to briefly squeeze Brian's hand in gratitude and offer him a small smile before he let go to scoot back from the table.

Brian gazed up at him curiously. "Where are you going? We haven't eaten yet, and I think the waitress is smelling a big tip here," he teased, noticing her hovering near the entrance to the room. But Justin's smile disappeared in reaction. "Justin?"

"I've suddenly lost my appetite," he told Brian grimly as he stood up. "I have something important to take care of."

"Justin, wait! I'll go with you." He knew all too well what the 'important' matter was going to be.

But Justin shook his head firmly. "No. This is something I need to do myself. If I explain to the dean afterward, maybe under the circumstances he won't throw my ass out on the street before fall semester. Right now, though, I couldn't care less." Actually, it WAS a worry. But there was no way now that he could possibly continue working for someone like Marcum."

Brian frowned. "What are you talking about?"

Justin paused, his hands grasping the back of the wooden chair as he explained, "My grant covers full room and board, in addition to my tuition, as long as I'm either taking classes or I'm working. Since I'll soon be joining the ranks of the unemployed soon - and I didn't enroll in time for summer session - I probably won't be able to stay in my dorm room any longer."

Brian silently digested that bit of information as Justin finally nodded when he didn't say anything in response. What he had expected, though? To have Brian holding out his arms to him and begging him to move into the loft with him? _Yeah...right._ Would HE do that if Brian hadn't believed _him_? He let out a soft sigh. "Well, then...I'd better get going." He nodded briefly once more before turning to go.

"Justin?"

He turned around after walking a few feet to peer back at him.

"Good luck. And let me know what happens...okay?"

Justin frowned slightly, perplexed by that statement, before he nodded once more with a half-smile and headed out of the room, not knowing Brian was watching his every move until he disappeared out of sight.


	14. Two Pieces of the Puzzle Come Together

_Justin has his confrontation with Marcum, while Brian goes to visit an old friend._

_StrataG's offices - thirty minutes later..._

Justin's heart pounded with anxiety as he walked down the main hallway of the three-story, brick building housing the advertising agency's employees. Marcum's office was located in a suite of rooms on the top floor, affording him with an impressive view of the Susquehanna River. Justin had been in the man's suite numerous times, but only when discussing a campaign with Kent or some other members of the advertising team; this would be the first - and only - time he had ever visited the CEO's inner sanctum alone. No doubt it would be the last time, also...

He forced a smile on his face as he arrived at Marcum's assistant's desk at the far end, noticing Marla Hemsworth keying in some appointment information on her online calendar. Hearing his soft footfalls on the carpeted floor, she turned to peer up at him in recognition and smiled politely. "Justin. How are you?"

"I'm...fine." Obviously he wasn't 'fine,' though. He was _far_ from fine. But at the same time, he didn't want to go into the sordid details with Marcum's assistant, either. "I need to see Mr. Marcum," he told her calmly, belying his inner turmoil.

She glanced over at the computer screen and frowned. "I don't have you scheduled for a meeting with him today. Are you sure you don't have your dates mixed up?"

Justin shook his head. "I don't have an appointment, Marla. But I need to see him anyway. It's...important."

The assistant bestowed what appeared to be a half-sympathetic, half-patronizing look on her face as she plastered her game face on; after all, she hadn't been Marcum's personal assistant for the past twenty years by being unassertive or timid when unexpected visitors showed up announced. "_Everything_ Mr. Marcum does is important, Justin," she told him as if she were speaking to a young child in need of gentle correction. "I'm sorry; if you don't have a meeting scheduled with him, I..." Her eyes widened in disbelief as she watched her young visitor quickly turn on his heels and head determinedly toward her boss's office suite. "Justin, you can't go _in_ there!" she called after him, as she scooted back from her chair and rushed toward him. But Justin had too much of a head start for her to fully catch up with him as he reached Marcum's frosted glass-paneled door and turned the handle to enter unannounced.

Marcum, currently belting back a scotch out of a stout glass while studying some print ad boards on his desk, looked up in surprise as he heard the door opening. His brow seemed to momentarily wrinkle in distaste before he corrected himself and pasted on a more neutral expression instead. "Justin. What are you doing here? We didn't have a meeting scheduled."

Marla entered the room then and peered over at her boss apologetically. "I'm sorry, Mr. Marcum. He ignored my request to schedule an appointment first, and just came in here uninvited."

Marcum frowned as he studied the determined-looking, blond-haired man staring back at him unflinchingly. He sighed. Why now? He had a lot of work to do. "Justin...what do you want? I'm a very busy man." As Justin walked closer to his desk, he felt his heart begin to thump for some reason, perhaps due to the dark, blue eyes and the almost angry look on the young man's flushed face.

"I need to speak with you privately," Justin replied with admirable calm. "About the awards banquet the other night." He thought he noticed a brief flicker of anger on the other man's face at the mention of the banquet - no doubt due to his defeat at the hands of Brian's company - before the mask dropped back into place.

"What _about_ it? You were there, too."

Justin responded with a dry sort of laugh, totally devoid of any humor, as he replied, "Yeah, I was." He had decided before he came in here that he was not going to mention either Brian OR Palmer. He feared if he told Marcum that Brian had been the one who had overheard him and Palmer speaking, the man would deny it. And at the moment, he could care less about Palmer; the sniveler _deserved _to work for this jerk. To him, that would be the best punishment for him. Besides, he wanted the man Marcum himself to admit what he had said before he walked out. His eyes bored into the other man's as he explained, "I know what you and Palmer were talking about in the bathroom."

It seemed like Marcum's superior façade disappeared then, his expression hardening as he replied, "I don't know what the fuck you're talking about, Justin."

"Oh, yes, you do," Justin retorted. He glanced back at Marla as he asked, "Do you really want her in on this conversation?"

Marcum rubbed his face with his hand briefly before he glanced over at his assistant, who had been silently listening in by her place near the door. "That will be all, Marla," he told her after a moment. "And close the door; I don't want to be disturbed until further notice."

Marla studied the two men curiously - noticing the rigid stance of the younger man's posture as he stood approximately seven or eight feet away from Marcum's desk and the look of anxiety (?) on her boss's face - before she finally nodded. "Yes, sir," she told him. She turned to look at the blond. "Justin," she said with a slight nod as Justin did the same. After a few seconds, she finally turned and headed out the door, closing it behind her.

"Make it quick," Marcum told him abruptly as he purposefully ignored him by turning to stare at his computer as if Justin were the janitor cleaning up his office while he worked.

Justin's face turned red with anger. "I know how you feel about me, Marcum. I know about the 'artist fairy' remark you made, and how bigoted you are toward gays. And I don't want to work for someone like that."

The older man's lips pressed into a tight line before he responded, "You don't have the right to question my motives, Justin, or my viewpoints. And my feelings about...about _homosexuals_ are irrelevant. You've been well compensated for working here, and I know a lot of interns who would give their right arm to work for StrataG. That should be all that matters to you. It's a business arrangement; nothing more, nothing less."

"That's where you're wrong," Justin told him quietly as his eyes bored into the other man's. "It matters a lot to me. I can't in good conscience work for someone who is a bigot; I don't care HOW good the company is. And as for others waiting in line to work here, well...I guess they don't you as well as I do, do they?" Sliding his hand inside his jacket, he retrieved a white, folded piece of paper from the inside pocket and walked over to place it down on Marcum's desk, his heart pounding with nervousness. He wasn't about to let this idiot know how anxious he was, however.

Marcum's mouth hung open in disbelief. "So you're quitting, just like that...I knew you didn't have any backbone," he spat in contempt.

Justin shook his head in amazement. "No, it's not _just like that_," he countered. You think this is easy for me? I could very well lose my scholarship to PIFA because I'm not employed. But I don't have any choice. You took that choice away from me." He turned to go, but not before revealing one more piece of information. "And just so you know...I have no idea if he'll even believe me, but I'll be having a discussion with Dean Smythe about you. I think he deserves to know what sort of man he's working in conjunction with."

Marcum snickered with disdain. "You really think he's going to believe someone like YOU over me?" He laughed. "What sort of disillusioned world do you live in, Taylor? You're a _nobody_."

"That's where you're wrong," Justin replied quietly. "I AM somebody. Somebody who has respect for himself and treats everyone else the same. I wish I could say the same for _you_."

As he walked toward the door, his heart continuing to thump furiously, he heard Marcum issue one, final piece of advice. "Don't do it, Taylor. Or I'll eat you up and spit you out like the insignificant piece of queer trash that you are. You people are all alike."

Justin shook his head sadly as he turned around once more to face him as he stood near the door; how he had wished the guy had turned out to be what he had hoped. But he knew better now. "I almost feel sorry for you. Almost." With that, he finally turned back around and headed out into the hallway, knowing this would be the last time he would ever see this place again.

* * *

><p><em>Same Time - PIFA Administrative Offices<em>

Brian smiled as he entered through the half-glass, double doors and recognized the petite, brunette woman sitting at her desk; she was idly chewing on a pencil as she peered at a financial spreadsheet on her computer. The room looked pretty much like the last time he had been here: wall-to-wall books, potted plants in every corner, and a bottled water dispenser near the window seat that overlooked the stately, shady grounds of the college. He was relieved that the same office assistant was here. That would make his job a lot easier.

"Sarah!" he greeted the woman with a warm smile; just like with most other women, this one wasn't immune to the Kinney charm. She smiled back at him in recognition.

"Mr. Kinney," she chirped as she rose to her feet and accepted his handshake. "This is a pleasant surprise. What's it been? Six months?"

Brian smiled as he let go of her hand. "More like a _year_ and six months," he admitted as he temporarily placed his briefcase down on the desk's edge. "Time goes by fast, doesn't it?"

She nodded as she sat back down. "Yes, it does," she concurred as she eyed him curiously. "So what brings you here to our sanctimonious halls?" she teased him. Even though Sarah Burnett was probably old enough to be Brian's mother, she still wasn't oblivious to his charisma. "I don't remember you having an appointment with the dean today." She started to bring up her scheduling software on her computer, only to pause as Brian spoke up.

"I don't," he conceded as she peered up at him curiously. He smiled at her as he explained, "I was hoping CJ might be able to squeeze me in, though." He eyed her with his best, little-boy imitation as he curled his lips under hopefully. "For old time's sake," he added for effect. He and Charles Johnathan Smythe had attended Carnegie together several years ago, both of them pursuing a Bachelor's in Business Administration at the same time. While Brian had minored in marketing, "CJ," as he preferred to be called, had decided that his interest lay in public administration, and his master's degree ultimately helped him secure his present position here at PIFA. Brian had never thought their friendship in college would be needed in this particular situation, though, but he was thankful nonetheless.

"Mr. Kinney..."

"Brian," he smiled back at her with a wink, placing his hands, palms down, on the desk as he leaned in closer. "You know he won't mind. It'll just take a few minutes. Promise."

To Brian's satisfaction, Sarah promptly blushed in reaction, just like he hoped. "Well...Since you're an old friend of his...I'll see what I can do."

Brian nodded as he leaned in and kissed the older woman on the cheek. "You're a real sweetheart," he whispered before pulling back and staring deeply into her eyes as if she were the most beautiful creature on earth. The woman flushed an even darker shade of red and giggled. "I'll be right back," she told him as she scooted back from her chair and walked over to her boss's office door. Knocking rapidly a couple of times, Brian heard the muffled voice of her friend calling out to her in response. A few seconds later, he watched as she disappeared inside, only to return shortly afterward - with the dean in tow behind her, sporting a wide smile.

"Brian, you old dog! What brings _you_ here? Need to sign up for some finger painting lessons?" he teased.

Brian grimaced. "Hey, watch that 'old' talk," he warned him, as the other man approached and the two friends shook hands. "You're older than me, remember?" CJ eyed him expectantly as Brian glanced over at Sarah, who was watching them curiously. "Uhh...can we speak privately in your office?"

The other man smiled. "Sure. Coffee?"

Brian nodded. "That'd be great."

"Black with sugar, right?"

"Well, I see your brain synapses are still firing, anyway," he quipped with a grin as his friend clapped him on the back.

"Sarah, two coffees, please," he politely instructed her as she nodded before turning to head down the hallway toward the break room.

* * *

><p><em>Fifteen Minutes Later...<em>

Leaning his long legs against the edge of his oak desk, Smythe peered curiously over at his old college chum; Brian was sipping from his mug as he sat in one of the overstuffed, leather chairs facing him. "Now...if you're not here to soak up some culture, Brian, why _are _you here?" he asked at last.

Brian placed his mug down on the oval table next to the chair before speaking. "Did you hear about my award the other night?"

Smythe shook his head. "You know I don't keep up with those," he told him. "You're the advertising genius, and I'm the stodgy, nerdy administrator, remember?" He grinned. Brian used to constantly kid him back in school that he would wind up with horn-rimmed glasses, a small goatee, and bronzed Shakespearean bookends on the shelf behind him once he had found the right administrative job. Thank God he hadn't turned out _that _dull. "But it must have been something good if you're bringing it up."

"_Very_ good," he assured him. "Kinnetik made _Advertising Agency of the Year _this time_." _

Smythe's face broke out into a genuine, delighted smile. "That's fucking great!" he raved. "But I'm not surprised. You always were one driven son of a bitch," he told him. He frowned at the odd look on his friend's face, though; for someone who had won such a coveted award, he didn't seem too pleased at the moment. Out loud he commented, "For someone who was awarded such a prestigious prize, my friend, you don't look very happy about it."

"No, I felt...vindicated," Brian told him quietly. "And I'm very proud of what Kinnetik has accomplished this past year. It's what happened _afterward_ that I have a problem with."

"Afterward?"

Brian paused; this was fucking awkward. How much of his personal life was he willing to reveal to his friend? Oh, he already knew he was queer. But he had no idea about Justin. How much was he comfortable with sharing? And what would Justin think about him interceding, anyway? He winced inwardly as he thought about the almost cavalier way he had said goodbye to him earlier: "Good Luck. Let me know what happens." Fuck, how asinine and uncaring did THAT sound? But he knew, though, how proud a man Justin was, and how important it was that he find his own way in life. He didn't want him to think he was orchestrating his every move for him. Did that mean he couldn't help him along, though, if he needed it, and he had the wherewithal to do it?

One thing he knew for certain was that he couldn't let Marcum's bigotry go unnoticed - or just stand by while the man ruined Justin's chance at the career he longed for and held such a unique talent for. Besides, he felt his friend had a right to know what sort of person he was dealing with. It was HIS and the school's reputation on the line as well. His lips pressed tightly together in irritation as he recalled the conversation he had overheard in the men's room. _Well, you chose the wrong adversary, you asshole_...

"Brian?"

He blinked as he lifted his head to peer over at his friend, noticing him staring at him strangely. How long had he zoned out? He took a deep breath and exhaled it. "I need to tell you something. Something about StrataG...and Marcum."

Brian's friend frowned. "Marcum? What _about_ him? He's been very supportive of the art students here at PIFA. In fact, he's spoken very highly of one in particular who's working for him this summer."

Brian's heart pounded. He knew exactly who Marcum had 'spoken highly of' - and how he had been bullshitting everyone about it, too, obviously. "You mean Justin Taylor."

Smythe's eyebrows lifted in surprise as he nodded. "You know him?"

Brian nodded back at him. He could at least tell him part of the story; there wasn't a need to go into details about how strongly he felt about him, or how deeply they were personally involved. "Yes," he verified. "My son and I first met him on vacation about a year ago where he was working, and we ran into him again a few weeks ago here in Pittsburgh. Until then, I didn't know he had moved up here to go to art school. But I had seen how talented an artist he was, even back then."

Smythe peered over at him intently, sensing there was more to that statement than his friend was revealing. The fact that Brian was discussing a man at all was unusual for him; at least, in a serious manner, anyway. From what he recalled back in their college days, Brian was a '_fuck-em-and-leave-em'_ kind of guy, and he didn't care to know anything about the men he had fleeting encounters with. Was that what Justin had been? A temporary, pleasurable dalliance while he had been on vacation? He was awfully young compared to his friend, but he had a suspicion there was something more to their relationship than Brian was divulging. He finally nodded. "I see," he murmured thoughtfully as he took another quick sip of his black coffee. "You said this has to do with Marcum, though."

"Well, it has to do with both of them," Brian explained. "You know me well enough to know that I tell people like it is, right? I don't believe in glossing over shit just to soothe someone's ego."

Smythe laughed. "Definitely. Even when I tried to date two women at once, you wouldn't cover for me. I spent more time evading them than you did escaping running backs on the football field."

Brian grinned. "Yeah, I remember." His smile faded as he got down to business. "Well, Marcum isn't what he appears to be, CJ. He's a prick. A bigot. A homophobic bigot."

His friend's mouth gaped open. "What? I mean, he can be pretentious and full of himself sometimes - even arrogant, I suppose - but that's a long way from..."

"No, I mean a bigot in every sense of the word. And the only reason why he has kept Justin on his payroll is because of his bottom dollar. Justin was largely responsible for him securing a multimillion-dollar account, and he doesn't want to risk losing that. So he puts up with employing - as he put it - a 'fairy artist' to keep his client happy."

A nervous tic appeared on CJ's face as he repeated, "A fairy artist? Are you saying he said that?"

"He not only said it, I _heard _him say it. In the men's room after the awards show. He was talking to another employee of his, and didn't know that I was overhearing everything he said from the other side of the room. He said a few more things, too, about queers in general, but the important thing is that he made it clear that he loathes them, and would want nothing to do with Justin if it wasn't for his talent."

"So...Justin is..."

Brian sighed; he really hadn't meant to involve Justin so deeply in this situation - or reveal information that he perhaps wasn't ready to disclose - but in this case he felt he had no choice. "Yes. And by the way, that is just between the two of us, okay? Justin's sexuality is really irrelevant here. Marcum is a homophobic asshole regardless of who it's directed at; Justin just happened to be the target of his hatred. The other comments I heard made it clear that he would feel that way about anyone who's queer, though, not just Justin."

CJ brushed some hair away from his face in disgust. "Shit. I had no idea." He shook his head. "He's been one of the school's major co-op supporters, too." He sighed. "But I will NOT condone that sort of prejudice, no matter what it costs in terms of internship opportunities." His eyes bored into Brian's as he asked quietly, "Can I ask you a question? Off the record, so to speak? Just between the two of us friends?"

Brian shrugged in silent acquiescence as he inquired, "Are you here just because you're trying to do your civic duty? Or is there more to it than that?"

Brian smiled dryly at him. "There could be," he conceded after a few seconds. "My agency isn't as big as Marcum's. But it IS growing rapidly - and we can always use some fresh talent. Especially one as amazing as Justin's. And I understand that if he doesn't either take classes this summer - or stay employed as an intern in a related field - he can risk losing his grant to PIFA. I don't want that to happen. So I'm hoping we can come to a mutually beneficial arrangement here - for him, as well as for future art students in your program."

CJ nodded, pleased. "I'm sure that we can. That may just save my ass, the college's program - and Mr. Taylor's grant as well. He's a very good student - and I foresee him doing great things with his art one day." He paused. "Does he know you're here, Brian?"

Brian shook his head, seeing no reason to be disingenuous with his friend now; not after all these years. "No," he admitted. "In fact, I believe he is over at StrataG at the moment, no doubt giving Marcum a piece of his mind - and submitting his resignation."

CJ nodded thoughtfully. "You have more than a passing interest in him," he stated. That much was obvious; how else would he know, for example, about Justin's current whereabouts? He supposed he could have been told about Justin's grant when they had run into each a few weeks ago, but he strongly suspected Brian was involved with this young man in more than a professional capacity.

Brian let out another breath between his lips as his fingered the rim of his coffee cup with his index finger. _Just fucking admit it, you coward. This is not a stranger you're talking to._ "Yeah. I guess I do," he said at last.

CJ smiled. "There, that wasn't so bad, was it?" he teased him as Brian glared at him. His smile grew wider over his friend's seeming discomfort as he added, "I'm happy for you if you're found someone you care that much about. It's about fucking time, Kinney."

Brian rolled his eyes, but half-smiled back at him in concession. He rose to his feet. "So we have a deal?" he asked. "You will allow Justin to remain in the program, provided he agrees to come to work for me?"

"Of course," the dean confirmed as Brian walked over and shook hands with his friend. "I would like nothing more than to have a continuing relationship with you and your company, Brian. I've wanted that since the moment you told me you were going into business for yourself. I'm sorry it took this type of event to convince you to work with me and PIFA. But you won't regret it," he promised him. "You will be getting a hell of an artist in exchange for your participation."

"I know," Brian told him as they broke off their handshake, and he turned to go. "So you will talk to him about it?"

"If you like. I have to formally sever our business relationship with StrataG, and courier over some paperwork for you to sign. I can have Sarah give him a call, and ask him to come here to my office as soon as he's available to discuss the arrangements. You will allow him to work for you full-time, at least during the summer semester, to maintain his grant requirements?"

"Of course," Brian assured him with a nod. "He can start as soon as he's cleared to do so."

CJ nodded. "You want me to have him report directly to you?" he asked, somehow already knowing the answer.

Brian grinned. "Definitely." He gave his friend a brief wave before heading toward the door, his burden feeling just a bit lighter. Now all he had to do was convince Justin of the soundness of his plan - and prevent him from viewing it as some type of charity. As he closed the door behind him and bid Sarah goodbye, his mind began to churn with ideas. He smiled as an idea occurred to him. Perhaps it was time to call in some reinforcements.

Flipping open his phone a few seconds later, he pressed a button and held it up to his ear. "Lindsay! It's Brian! I have something to ask you."


	15. Between Gratitude and Irritation

_Justin discovers what Brian has done. Will he be thankful, angry, or somewhere between? _

Heading back to Kinnetik a few minutes later, Brian pursed his lips together in disappointment as he flipped his phone shut. So much for Plan A; he had completely forgotten that tonight was his son's school play - the one he had promised he would attend. He was glad in a way, though, that he had called Lindsay and she had reminded him, because otherwise he wouldn't have shown up; he knew how terribly disappointed Gus would have been if that had happened. It had totally slipped his mind in light of all the other events unfolding. It was bad timing in a way for him to go. But perhaps it was just as well, he decided. Using his son as a softening cushion between him and Justin - in case a certain blond became irritated - or worse, infuriated in reaction to his getting involved at PIFA - wasn't exactly fair to Gus. And since when did he have to hide behind a little boy, anyway? _His _little boy?

He sighed. He had no doubt that it probably would have helped, however; his son was a regular, little charmer. And at least if Gus had come over for dinner as he had been planning - and if he could have talked Justin into joining them - he knew Justin wouldn't have raised his voice toward him; not in his son's presence. He knew Justin cared too much for his son to upset him. And yes, it might have bought him some more time until he could hopefully explain why he had interceded on his behalf. In the end, though, he would have still had to explain it anyway, so maybe it was for the best. He would just have to hope that Justin would understand - AFTER he blew up at him. He winced at the thought.

Glancing down at his phone, he noted the time. _4:00 p.m._ His son's play started at seven. He had last parted ways with Justin about two hours ago; that should have given him had plenty of time by now to go pay that asshole Marcum a visit and give him a piece of his mind. He wondered where he was, then. Was he already at the dean's office, speaking with CJ about the change in his internship? Was he on his way to see him at Kinnetik, instead, to tell him in no uncertain terms what he thought of his 'helping?' Should he call him and see? Knowing his friend, he was fairly certain that CJ would have followed through quickly with his plans to have his assistant call Justin and summon him to his office, but so far he hadn't heard anything either way.

As he entered his company's main lobby a short time later, however - and was promptly called in to put out several fires at once - his attention was temporarily diverted. A certain young man, however, remained uppermost in his mind for the next hour or so as he vowed to contact him before the evening was out. He was dying to know what had happened, and what Justin's reaction was. _Please let it be a good one_, he silently pleaded as Ted grabbed his sleeve to lead him into the conference room for another, impromptu meeting.

_Same Time - PIFA Administrative Offices _

Justin quietly closed the double doors behind him as he entered the lobby of the dean's suite, hefting his art portfolio higher on his shoulder as he peered over at the dean's private office; as usual, the door was closed, so he was unable to discern what was going on inside. Dean Smythe's assistant had called him unexpectedly about 30 minutes ago and had asked him to come here, preempting any need for him to call and try to see Dean Smythe on short notice. He had been determined one way or the other to come over here and speak with him, appointment or not. Was there a connection somehow, then, or just a big coincidence? Had Marcum made good on his threat, and called the dean to fabricate some sort of untruthful story about him? Was he about to be kicked out of the grant program - and have his dreams thrown out along with it? Just who would the dean believe? He recalled Marcum's hate-filled words to him earlier, and his face flushed with anger. He might be a 'nobody' in the man's eyes, but he was determined to make the dean see the truth. He HAD to; he had no other choice.

His thoughts were interrupted by a clearing of the assistant's throat. "May I help you?"

Justin swallowed his nervousness and walked closer to the woman's desk. "Yes. I'm...Justin Taylor. I received a call to..."

Sarah nodded with a smile. "Yes. Mr. Taylor. I was the one who called you. Please have a seat over there for just a moment, and I'll let Dean Smythe know that you are here."

Justin nodded as he walked over to a trio of antique, stuffed chairs and sat down on the nearest one, clasping his hands tightly together. He felt like a kid in grade school about to meet with the principal over an infraction in class, and he felt his pulse racing in anticipation. What was about to transpire with Dean Smythe - and his ability to convince the man of his sincerity - could very well determine his success or failure in staying in school. Daphne had gone to so much trouble to help get him enrolled here, and it was only here that at last he had felt like he was headed in the right direction. If this opportunity was snatched out from under him now, he would feel desolate and lost. He pressed his lips tightly together in determination. _No, I won't let that happen_, he silently vowed. He looked up, a little startled, as he heard the door to the dean's office opening then, and the dean himself standing in the doorway.

CJ peered over curiously at the young man who had seemingly captured his friend's attention - and possibly his heart. A heart he knew was in there, but rarely allowed anyone to see. He smiled as he recognized the creative artist who had won the school's prestigious grant. He had to admit Justin was quite attractive. He looked so young, though, especially considering how much older Brian was. But the artist was obviously talented as well as intelligent, or he would not have received the much coveted grant he was currently using. So he suspected there was far more to this man than he knew. "Justin," he greeted his student as the blond rose to stand. "Good to see you again. Please come on in." He extended his hand outward in invitation as Justin walked toward him. "Sarah, please hold my calls until further notice," he instructed his assistant as she nodded in understanding.

Justin walked in ahead of the dean, his mind swirling with questions. Whatever he wanted to discuss with him, he wanted to do it in private. Was that good or bad?

The dean closed the door and faced his visitor. "Coffee, Justin?" he asked as the young man shook his head. He clearly appeared nervous in his estimation; that wasn't exactly uncommon when it came to visiting him, though; he knew just the idea of having to visit 'the dean' tended to make any student a little anxious. He was determined to help make him comfortable, however, and reassure him. "Please have a seat," he invited him as Justin nodded and did as he was asked.

Smythe waited until Justin had sat down before he perched on the edge of his desk; he always DID hate to sit behind that imposing piece of wood to face a student, knowing how intimidating it was without the added obstruction. He made a point of smiling over at Justin as he engaged in some initial small talk. "How did your first year go, Justin? Well, I hope? I know your grades have been excellent."

Justin couldn't help flushing over the praise; apparently the dean had at least checked into his transcript from the first year. "It was great," he told him sincerely, unable to smile himself as he thought about all the challenges he had encountered during the first year. It had been a very busy time for him - but he had loved every minute of it. That is, until he discovered Marcum's true nature. "The classes I took were extremely helpful, and the faculty really challenged me to do my best. And I've had exposure to a lot of different media and viewpoints," he added, his voice rising in enthusiasm. He didn't even want to think about not continuing now; just the possibility of it filled him with a lot of sorrow. He couldn't go back to the way he had been; he would NOT live his life, wiping down soiled tabletops and cleaning up cornbread crumbs off the floor.

The dean nodded thoughtfully. "I'm very glad to hear that," he told him. "I like to hear good things about our students." He paused. "That's what makes this so difficult," he added cryptically, making Justin go on alert.

_Shit...it's just what I was afraid of. _

"Sir?" he asked softly, trying to prepare for what was to come. But nothing would have prepared him for _this._

"StrataG and PIFA have severed our relationship, effective today. We will no longer be providing internships through their organization."

Justin licked his lips nervously. Was he about to be severed from affiliation with PIFA, too? "May...May I ask why, Dean Smythe?"

CJ nodded. "I will not allow our institution's reputation to be sullied by someone who discriminates against others due to their sexual orientation. This institute will not condone - or tolerate - such behavior."

Justin's mouth fell open in astonishment. Did the dean just say what he thought he said? "Sir? You...You know about...?"

CJ nodded grimly. "Yes. I know about Marcum and his bigoted, skewed attitude. And I let him know how I felt about it, too. PIFA no longer will have any type of professional association with them, effective immediately."

"But...how...?" Had another student encountered the same problem with Marcum, and told the dean? He supposed it was possible, but he wasn't aware of any other art students working at StrataG during the summer. He frowned, until suddenly it hit him; before the dean could say anything else, he _knew_. He just _knew. _There was no other explanation that made sense. _Damn it._

"Let's just say that someone clued me in - and I took immediate action, Justin." Smythe paused as he eyed him with a mixture of sympathy and disgust toward the way he had been treated. "I'm sorry you had to experience that. No one should have to deal with that, especially on a professional level. PIFA investigates our internship partners closely to make sure they are a good fit for our students...but obviously in this case we were caught unaware. But don't worry," he added quickly with a reassuring smile. "Your grant will NOT be in jeopardy."

"I'm...relieved to hear that," Justin told him warily. And he was. He wasn't going to just let it end there, however. "But how will I fulfill my internship requirement? I thought that either I had to be working or attending classes."

The dean nodded. "Yes, that's correct. And although I would personally be more than willing to waive that requirement in this case due to the circumstances, I do not have that power. That is something the Board of Directors would have to address, and that can take weeks. No, you will be working this summer...but for a different employer."

"Let me guess," Justin replied dryly. "Kinnetik, by chance?"

Smythe had the grace to look embarrassed then, which told Justin all he needed to know. CJ sighed in resignation; so much for leaving Brian out of it. Of course, that only tended to tell him that this young man was a very shrewd individual; something told him he might just be every bit Brian's equal in a lot of ways. "Yes, that's the one," he admitted, seeing no way to deny it. He was going to find out soon enough, anyway. "You can start as soon as the paperwork is signed, which should be sometime tomorrow. I would anticipate come Monday morning, you will be reporting to their CEO."

Justin shook his head; not sure whether to be amused or irritated - or both. "You mean Brian Kinney."

Smythe half-smiled with a nod. "That would be him," he verified. He studied the young man in front of him. "Justin...You deserve to work there. You are a very talented artist," he assured him.

"Thanks. But that's not how this came about, is it?" he pressed. "How DID all this happen, anyway? He was here, wasn't he?"

CJ nodded. "Justin, he just made the transition a lot easier." He paused before revealing, "He thinks a lot of you."

Justin reddened in embarrassment. _What exactly did Brian do and say_? "How do you know that? Just what did he say to you?"

CJ pondered how much to tell him. He decided in the end that Brian wasn't the only one who preferred to play it straight. "He told me what happened the other night after the awards banquet. We...we go way back. Both of us attended Carnegie together. I know he wouldn't make something like that up."

Justin nodded. He wondered fleetingly if things would have been different if he had believed Brian in the first place. But that was irrelevant now. "I was actually on my way here to tell you what happened earlier today. I...had a little discussion with Marcum myself - and told him exactly what I thought of him. There's no way I would ever go back to work for StrataG."

Smythe nodded. "I figured as much; I mean, Brian knew you were intending on going over there to see him." He studied his student carefully. "It took a lot of courage for you to do that."

Justin's face warmed over the praise. "I couldn't have done anything less," he told him quietly. Letting out a deep breath, he told the dean, "So I'm supposed to start at Kinnetik on Monday?"

"Yes, provided all the paperwork is signed and returned to me promptly. I will be sending all of the necessary paperwork over to Brian's office via courier first thing in the morning, and I suspect he will make sure it's handled immediately." Brian had certainly seemed eager to get Justin on the payroll.

Justin nodded. "Sounds like he has it all arranged, then," he commented, his lips pursed tightly together. Not that he didn't appreciate what Brian was trying to do - but it still made him uneasy. It made him feel like he was a ten-year-old who needed his runny nose wiped.

"Justin, I don't have to tell you how impressive Kinnetik's rise in the business world has been. This will be a great opportunity for you." He rose from his place on the corner of his desk, subtly signaling that their meeting was over. "I'll have my office give you a call to confirm when all the paperwork is signed," he told him as Justin, too, rose to stand. Lightly placing his hand on Justin's shoulder, the two of them walked toward the door. "Let me know if you have any questions," he told him with a smile. "And give Brian my regards."

A few minutes later, Justin was standing outside the administrative offices, shaking his head over this turn of events. "Why did I know you wouldn't just stand still and let me take care of this?" he asked out loud to Brian, even though he wasn't there. He was still somewhat pissed that he had gone to see the dean without his prior knowledge or agreement; at least he would not have been hit blindsided then. He had to admit, though; Brian had come up with the perfect solution to his problem. Why did it still make him feel inadequate, though? And how was he supposed to know that Brian actually knew him, anyway? "Aaargh!" he growled as he slung his portfolio across his shoulder and headed toward his junk heap of a car.

* * *

><p><em>Kinnetik - 6:00 p.m..<em>

Cynthia looked up as she sensed a shadow looming nearby; lifting her gaze, she surveyed the slim, blond-haired man standing in front of her desk, his hands jammed into his jacket pockets. She eyed him politely. "May I help you?"

Justin nodded as he looked around curiously; to be early evening, it was quite busy inside the offices of Pittsburgh's newest _Advertising Agency of the Year. _Just what sort of hours did these people work? He wondered.

He heard the blonde woman clearing her throat to get his attention as he turned back to face her, his cheeks coloring in embarrassment. "I'm looking for Mr. Kinney," he replied at last.

He noticed the woman giving him an intense stare, as if she were a nurse performing triage to determine his purpose in being there, before she informed him, "Mr. Kinney is about to leave for the day. I don't believe you had an appointment, Mr...?"

"Taylor," Justin told her softly, his eyes drifting to a door nearby with "B Kinney" written elegantly on a brass nameplate. "Justin Taylor."

She nodded. "Well - Mr. Taylor - as I said, he's on his way out. If you'd like to make an appointment, I can see what time he has available."

Justin firmly shook his head. "No, it has to be now," he told her to Cynthia's surprise. "Please...Just tell him I'm out here waiting to talk to him."

She frowned, trying to figure out just what this man wanted. He seemed decidedly out of place here. But the resolute expression on his face told her he was determined to at least have her contact Brian. "Okay," she told him at last. "If you'll have a seat over there, I'll let him know you're here. But don't get your hopes up," she warned him. She watched as he turned and walked over to sit in one of the nearby leather lobby chairs as she picked up the phone's intercom.

"Cynthia, I'm on my way out," was the somewhat abrupt response without any preamble.

"I know," she told him softly, trying not to be overheard as she cupped her hand over the mouthpiece. "But there's a man out here who claims he needs to see you."

"Cynthia, what part of 'I'm on my way out' did you not understand?" Brian growled, as he reached to flip open his briefcase and cram several papers into it, along with his laptop. He barely had enough time to rush home, shower, and change before heading to his son's play.

He could hear his assistant sigh over the phone as he cradled the phone in the crook of his neck and shut his briefcase, preparing to leave. Her next words, however, stopped him cold.

"His name is Justin Taylor. He's being very insistent about seeing you." There was silence on the other end for several seconds before Cynthia spoke up again. "Brian? Did you hear me? What do you want me to tell...?" But she never got to finish her sentence, as the door to Brian's office suddenly opened, and she observed him standing in the doorway. He wasn't looking at her, however; his eyes were focused on the visitor who stood up in reaction to him. She watched, intrigued, as the two locked gazes, noticing Brian running one hand through his hand, appearing uncharacteristically uncomfortable.

"Justin." he murmured the name almost as if it were part of a one-word prayer. He glanced over at Cynthia long enough to state, "It's okay. You can go on home. I'll handle this," before he turned his focus back to the young blond.

As she nodded and gathered up her things to go, she heard him state to their visitor, "Come on in. I've...been expecting you." She peered over at the look of familiarity on both men's faces before she finally headed toward the door and exited outside, wondering what sort of hold this man had on her normally confident and nonplussed boss.


	16. Business Arrangement?

_Justin confronts Brian about his interference. Will they resolve their conflict? Mel and Lindsay find out something is different about Gus's father._

Brian watched as his visitor walked up to him; he peered into the fathomless, blue eyes before he turned and silently followed Justin back into his office, the employees still lingering at Kinnetik - as well as his urgent need to get home to prepare for his son's play - all but temporarily forgotten. Despite the tenseness in the air, he couldn't help the glance he stole Justin's way as he admired the view. The jacket hid his companion's slim physique somewhat - but the snug-fitting jeans did not, he discovered. The expression on his face quickly turned more serious, however, as Justin walked toward his desk and then twirled around to face him as soon as he shut the door to his office.

"I had a very interesting visit with the dean earlier today," Justin began, as Brian raised one eyebrow with interest. _Here it comes_, he suspected. He didn't have to wait very long, either, before he quickly discovered his suspicions were correct. "Funny the things that don't come up in normal conversation...like how YOU know the dean personally."

Brian shrugged, mainly as a defense mechanism. "I know a lot of people, Justin," he lamely responded.

"A lot of people?! Brian, you went over there and talked to him before I had a chance to even finish talking to Marcum! Why couldn't you have told me what you were planning to do first? Why didn't you have faith in ME to handle this myself? Or was this what you had in mind all along to get me to come work for you?"

"Now wait just a minute!" Brian growled, bristling. "Surely you're shitting me, Justin. You told me you believed what I said about Marcum! Are you trying to say now that I made the whole thing up, just to get you to come to work for me? That Palmer covered for me as well? Do you really think that?"

Justin's eyes flashed as he began to gesticulate with one hand, the other one coming up to scratch the back of his head in frustration. "Of _course_ not! I said I talked to him, Brian, remember? And he made no attempt to hide the fact that he's an even bigger asshole than you had led me to believe. There's no way I would possibly work for him _now_!"

Brian sighed as he attempted to walk closer to his lover; he stopped mid-track, however, unsure of whether that was prudent at the moment or not, as Justin turned his head to avoid looking at him. _How did this man always seem to make him feel so insecure? _He had never felt hesitant in front of anyone else. "So what's the problem then, Picasso? I know you don't want to sling hash the rest of your life." It wasn't a question, but an assertion. Justin was way too talented to be a waiter for the rest of his life, and both of them knew he would never be content with that sort of unchallenging avocation.

Justin inhaled a deep breath to calm himself between his parted lips before blowing it back out. "No, I don't," he admitted quietly, unable to deny it. He shook his head as he peered back over at his lover. "But, Brian, I need to fight my own battles. All my life I've had to combat this kind of hatred and bigotry, even from my own father! I need to stand up for myself. I need to prove that I can handle this type of difficulty and still persevere in spite of it." He closed his eyes for just a brief moment before opening them back up, leaning against the back of Brian's desk as he crossed his hands over his chest, casting his eyes downward in frustration.

"Justin," Brian replied sympathetically, his heart lurching over the painful expression on the other man's face. No longer frozen with indecision, he walked closer, stopping within a few inches of him as he reached out and grasped Justin's upper arms with his fingers. "Look at me," he commanded softly but firmly. He was afraid for just a moment that Justin would refuse, but finally after a few seconds his face tilted upward, and his eyes slowly focused on him.

"I can understand how you feel," he began tentatively, not quite sure how to proceed here. Caring about another man like he did for this one was definitely foreign territory to him. _Shit, when did he get to be this way, anyway?_ He fleetingly wondered. But it was too late to back out now. He knew somehow that he was in this for the long haul. "I know you're a proud person. And I know you can stand up for yourself, too; you don't have to prove anything to me." He snorted out a half-chuckle. "If you couldn't, there's no way you would have marched over to Marcum's office and given him hell; which I'm sure you did in spades." Justin remained silent, but at least Brian could tell he was listening to him. His face turned more solemn as he conceded, "I should have called Marcum out the other night in the men's room, rather than waiting to talk to you about it. Fuck knows I wanted to kick his ass - and Palmer's, too. I _still_ do."

At least that comment evoked a half-smile from Justin before he muttered, "Join the club."

A little more emboldened by the hint of a smile, Brian slid his hands up Justin's neck to place them on either side of his face, staring into the eyes that he knew would forever captivate him. Justin closed his eyes for just a second in reaction to his touch before opening them back up as Brian spoke again. "Justin, maybe I should have waited for you to go to CJ first," he admitted, his voice soft and low. "But I knew what would probably happen to your grant once you quit working for Marcum, and I had the power to do something about it. I knew you either had to intern or go to school during the summer, and I needed another artist at Kinnetik to keep up with our workload; plain and simple. Can't you just set your pride aside for a little while, and accept this as the mutually beneficial arrangement that it is?"

"Beneficial arrangement?" Justin responded, one eyebrow quirked upward. _"How_ mutually beneficial?" To his amazement, he noticed what appeared to be a slight blush creep up on Brian's face in reaction to his question.

Brian cleared his throat. "It's a business deal, Mr. Taylor. You fulfill your school requirements while working for Kinnetik and obtain some valuable work experience - and I get a talented, up-and-coming artist in return."

Justin pondered that statement for a few seconds and nodded in understanding before asking, "_Only _business?" A smirk accompanied his statement as he arched a Spock-like brow in perfect imitation of Brian earlier.

Brian curled his lips under in relief; he was finally seeing the stubborn, proud Taylor façade cracking just a bit. "Well...That is up to you." Silently, though, he was fervently hoping that Justin wanted more out of this arrangement than just some relevant work experience. While his lover was here at Kinnetik, he would definitely make sure his Art Department put him to work and took advantage of his talent. Someone with Justin's skill and artistic creativity should not go to waste. During off-hours, though...that was quite a different matter - he hoped, anyway. "Let me be clear, though; you won't be given preferential treatment here. Everyone is expected to give me 110% at all times - or you'll find your perky, little ass out on the street - grant or no grant."

"Perky, huh?" Justin replied with another smirk as he brought his hands up to place them over Brian's. The two men's fingers intertwined together then as Brian brought their joined hands down to rest between them on Justin's chest, leaning in even closer so their breaths were intermingling.

"_Definitely_ perky," he told him huskily, his eyes boring into his. He gazed at him for a few seconds, issuing a silent invitation and receiving his answer when Justin's eyes moved lower to stare at his lips and his eyes drifted shut, his head angling silently in a not-so-subtle gesture of surrender.

Brian didn't need any further encouragement, as he dropped Justin's hands to slide his own around the slender waist and plaster his lips against his lover's; his heart raced as he deepened the kiss and Justin's hands mirrored his own, sliding them around to pull him closer as his tongue snaked inside to swab the inside of Justin's mouth. His arms slid higher up Justin's back as their crotches brushed against each other, causing both men to gasp in reaction; Justin wantonly increased the delicious friction by grinding their erections together, causing Brian's heart to race at an absurdly fast speed.

Brian broke off the kiss, then, panting heavily as if he was finally being provided a drink after being in the arid desert for weeks. "Fuck, Justin," he growled as he moved back slightly to give himself more room. It had been a long time since anyone had made him come in his pants - in fact, he had been a teenager at the time - but he was close to doing just that at the moment. "You...fuck...what...?" _Very sophisticated, Kinney_, he berated himself over his lack of linguistic skill as he sighed in disgust. This man was going to drive him fucking insane.

"I was just trying to say...thank you - in my own, artistic way," Justin replied innocently with a sexy smile, his eyes coming alive with a definite, mischievous twinkle.

"And you don't know how much I would love to say 'you're welcome,' in MY own way," Brian confirmed as Justin grinned back at him. "But I have a play to go to - and I know if I start accepting your 'thanks' right now, I will definitely miss it."

Justin frowned. "A play? You'd rather go to a play right now than...?" He shook his head. "Don't take this wrong, but you don't quite seem like the Ibsen type."

Brian snorted. "Hardly. But when it comes to my Sonny Boy, I make an exception."

Justin smiled. "Gus is in a play?"

Brian nodded at him.

"I think it's great that you're doing that." He meant it, too; that had been one of the first things that had attracted him to Brian - well, ONE of them, anyway. He loved how tender and attentive this man was to his son. "Then I guess I'd better _express my gratitude_ later, then." He tried not to be disappointed that he and Brian weren't going to continue this _discussion_ further, but at least now he knew he would be seeing him frequently in the near future. He leaned in to peck Brian on the lips before turning to go - only to have Brian grab his wrist to hold him in place.

"What? Brian..."

"Come with me," was the impulsive request.

"What?"

"Follow me back to the loft - and come with me to Gus's play. He would love it." _And so would I_, he couldn't help thinking. Right now, he just wanted to spend some time with him. Well, he _could_ think of a more pleasurable way of 'spending time' with Justin, but at least this way he could accomplish both that and satisfy his promise to his son. "What do you say?" he asked, his hands lightly holding onto Justin by the arms.

"Well..."

"What, you have a better offer?" he teased; although, the thought did cross his mind that he might not be the only one who had noticed how amazing Justin was. The idea that he might be seeing another man made him inexplicably perturbed.

He breathed a sigh of relief, however, as Justin shook his head.

"No," he told him. "But I'm not sure how his moms will feel about me tagging along. They don't even know me."

"Are you kidding? Lindsay - she's the biological mother - will definitely think I've raised my standards. She's an artist, too," he told him, "so you'll have that in common already. Mel?" He grimaced. "I'll let you form your own judgment about her," he said with a smirk as Justin furrowed his brow in curiosity. He smiled. "It'll be fine, trust me; and Gus will love you being there. So...what do you say?"

Justin peered into his eyes for a moment before he finally nodded. Attending a kid's play wasn't his idea of a wild time - but if it meant spending time with the kid's _father_, then he couldn't say no. And besides, he was genuinely fond of Brian's 'mini-me.' "Okay," he told him with a nod.

Brian smiled back at him, pleased. "Good," he told him, as he began to tug on his arm and lead him toward his office door. "What?" he asked, a little concerned when Justin seemed to hesitate.

"I should probably run home and change," he told him. "I've been wearing this all day, and I feel kind of grungy."

Brian leered at him. "Don't worry," he assured him as he resumed pulling him toward the door. "I can take care of that back at the loft. We'll even do our duty to conserve water at the same time."

Justin blushed, knowing exactly what that meant. Before he could utter any further protest, they were already out the door, garnering a few curious glances from everyone in the lobby as he heard Brian utter a "lock the door and set the alarm on your way out" to someone nearby before they left the building, Brian persuading Justin to let him drive and leave his car temporarily at Kinnetik.

* * *

><p>Brian's potential risk of coming in his pants earlier was quickly resolved once he and Justin returned to the loft; as soon as the door was closed, the two of them went to work, both men hurriedly tearing off each other's clothes as they continued to kiss, somehow managing to reach the shower without neither man injuring themselves along the way or breaking their bond.<p>

Brian could hardly wait for the shower to heat up before he pulled Justin into the expansive space and began to help 'warm him up' with his lips, nipping, licking, sucking his nipples - which was a highly erogenous zone for him - and trailing light kisses down his shoulders and chest, leaving Justin a trembling mess of heightened nerve fibers. In no time flat, he had ripped open a condom, lubricated Justin's quivering hole, and had pressed possessively into the tight heat of his lover's body, holding on firmly to his waist as the two of them rocked together in perfect unison.

It was only after he had sated his appetite - twice - that they were finally able to wash each other and get dressed for Gus's play.

* * *

><p><em>Thirty Minutes Later...<em>

"I think you should start leaving a change of clothing here," Brian murmured in his lover's ear as he nuzzled his neck from behind, his arms sliding over Justin's neck and down his chest to pull him close against his body. "I could see this becoming a regular habit."

Justin shivered against him, Brian's silky voice, along with his hands sensually sliding over the exposed skin of his chest, making him hard again. "Brian..." he gently reproached him as he turned around in his arms to face him, grabbing Brian's hand just before it reached its target below. He had only managed to slide on his briefs before Brian had sneaked up and grabbed him from behind in his bedroom. He rolled his eyes as he received a 'little boy pout' from his lover in response, which only made him smile back at him in amusement. "What happened to our 'mutually advantageous _business_ arrangement?' I haven't even officially become an employee of yours yet," he pointed out.

Brian waggled his eyebrows playfully at him as his fingers played with Justin's hand in his. "Well, then, it doesn't count yet, does it?" he pointed out, as his smile grew wider. "Besides, this is after-hours time; I already told you that our 'business arrangement' only refers to working hours. Although...I fully intend to keep on 'working you' after hours, too; only in a more horizontal configuration."

Justin grinned. "My favorite kind of overtime pay," he murmured as Brian smirked at him; he couldn't help leaning down to press his lips to Justin's, intending on it being a relatively brief gesture, but quickly deciding a more lengthy kiss was in order; that is, until Justin pressed his hands against Brian's chest to put some space between them and break off the kiss.

Justin laughed. "Brian, in case you haven't noticed, I'm not quite dressed yet. Unless Gus is performing in an updated version of _Hair, _I think it would be wise if you let me put my clothes on."

Brian chuckled as he reluctantly did as Justin asked. "Not quite; although, he will be pretty hairy. He's the lead in _Beauty and the Beast._ And let me tell you; he's not too happy about having to kiss Beauty in the end, either."

Justin laughed. "He's not?"

Brian shook his head and guffawed. "No; he says he doesn't want to 'get germs.' This coming from someone who thought he was Superman, Jr. sliding down the playground slide the other day."

Justin grinned. "I can't wait to see him as the Beast." He pulled away from Brian as he told him, "But that's only going to happen if you _let me get dressed_." Brian curled his lips under as Justin began to pick his clothes up off the floor and do just that.

* * *

><p><em>6:30 p.m.<em>

"So where is he?" Mel grumbled, scowling. "If he breaks his promise to Gus..."

"Mel, please," Lindsay shushed her as she cocked her head toward their son nearby. "Gus will hear. I'm sure he's on his way. He has never broken a promise to Gus before, has he?"

"Well, there's always a first time," she muttered as she glanced down at her watch, a gift from the firm she worked for after having reached her fifth anniversary with them. She was one of the few people left who actually preferred such an instrument for telling time, rather than relying on her cellphone as most professionals did. "He has thirty minutes - and Gus has to be backstage at quarter of."

Just then, their boisterous son came bounding up to them, his brown, felt-and-faux haired tail bobbing up and down behind him; he was dressed in full costume, from his head down to his lion-like paws, the only exposed part of his skin at the moment being his face, which was painted to look appropriately 'ferocious.'

He tugged on his mother's sleeve as he gazed up at her and asked, "Mommy, where's Daddy?"

Lindsay flashed her partner a warning look as Mel opened her mouth to no doubt issue a scathing retort as she smiled down at the slender child and replied, "He's on his way, Honey. I'm sure he'll be here any minute. You know how busy your father can be at work." Mel couldn't help snorting softly at that statement as she rolled her eyes dubiously.

"How do you like my claws, Mamma?" he asked Mel as he curled his fingers in a bear-like fashion and growled. Mel had to laugh then as she told him, "You look very fierce, Gus," she told him as he beamed back at her.

"Fifteen minutes!" Rang out nearby, as the play's director called over to the throng gathered near stage left behind the velour curtains that hid them from the quickly amassing audience in the seats on the other side. "Curtain's up in fifteen minutes, children!" She reminded them.

Mel sighed heavily in aggravation - just before her son left out an overjoyed shriek. "Daddy! _Justin_!" he yelled in utter delight as he rushed off toward Brian and an unfamiliar, blond man standing next to him.

The two women turned to stare at each other. "Justin?" They both said aloud with great curiosity. They watched as Gus rushed over to the two men and took turns giving both his father - and the other stranger - a hug and a kiss, and even allowed the blond man to ruffle his hair affectionately as he leaned into his father's side.

"Who the hell is Justin?" Mel wondered aloud, her mouth hanging open in amazement. Their son - while quite the showman in front of an audience, and very demonstrative with those he knew well - was actually very reserved and even shy around others he was unfamiliar with. The way Gus was acting, then, led them to believe he definitely had met this man before and was extremely comfortable around him

"What the...?" Lindsay responded, her eyes wide with the same look of incredulity. They watched as Gus took both men's hands in his and pulled them toward the two women.

"Mommy! Momma! Look! Daddy came! And he brought Justin, too!" His face was shining with pleasure as he turned to look at his father and reprimanded him with what sounded like just a touch of haughtiness, "See, Daddy? I told you Justin would be back!"

Brian chuckled as he and Justin exchanged a look between them and Justin frowned slightly; Brian's expression seemed to say he would explain later as he nodded at his son. "Yes, you did, Sonny Boy," he told him with a smile. "Both of us couldn't wait to come and see you playing such an important part tonight." Gus smiled radiantly back at his father, just before the 'five minute' curtain call was announced.

"I have to go, Daddy!" Gus proclaimed. "Can we go out to eat after I'm done?" He asked hopefully. "I'm going to be very hungry. Did you know that beasts are..." he scrunched up his face thoughtfully, "..._carney-vores_?" he asked his father.

Brian snickered in amusement. "Carney-vores, Sonny Boy? You know what that means?"

Gus nodded. "Yeah. It means they hate veg-tables."

Brian laughed. "Yeah, I guess it does," he agreed. "I'll tell you what; after the show's over, how about Justin and I take you to Delmonico's, and you can order the meat-lover's pizza? That is, if it's okay with your moms. I can take you home afterward."

Gus immediately flashed expressive, brown eyes at his two mothers, who were silently taking in the conversation between Gus, his father, and the other man. "Can I?" he pleaded. "Please?"

The two mothers sighed in unison; normally, it would be a school night, but this was the final play of the year, and tomorrow was their son's last day at school. They knew nothing of significant academic importance would be occurring tomorrow. "I guess it's okay," Lindsay finally responded for both of them as Gus jumped up and down in glee. "But you need to come straight home after you eat, all right?" Both women were still not too sure about the young, attractive man who was standing so closely next to Brian's side, and who seemed to have captured their son's affection so easily. But they both knew - even Mel - that Brian would never let anything happen to Gus. "Mel?" She turned to her partner questioningly for confirmation.

Mel let out a slightly exasperated breath, not wanting to be the source of her son's unhappiness. She couldn't really think of a good reason to refuse, so she finally nodded. "I guess it would be okay, if you're not out past your bedtime," she told him as she eyed Brian meaningfully. Brian rolled his eyes, but for his son's sake remained silent, and did not issue a rebuke.

"Yay!" Gus shouted in jubilation as he jumped up and down, both his ears - and his tail - bobbing.

"Gus, it's time!" the director called over to him as she motioned for him to follow her to take his place.

"Bye, Mommy! Bye, Momma! Bye, Daddy! Bye, Justin!" Gus called over his shoulder as he rushed away to join the other children, leaving the four adults relatively alone.

"Well, let's go find some good seats," Brian told them, but Mel held her hand up.

"Just a minute," she told him as Brian huffed in exasperation. "Where are your manners, Brian?" she asked, smiling over at him sweetly. "Oh, that's right; you don't have any," she quipped as he glared over at her.

Justin's eyes grew wide over their exchange as Mel turned to face him and stuck out her hand. "I'm Melanie Marcus," she told him. "And this is my partner, Lindsay Peterson. We're Gus's mothers. And you are...?"

Justin's face grew warm as the two of them stared intently at him like he was some type of science exhibit. "I'm...Justin Taylor," he informed them. "I'm a...friend of Brian's," he explained, not sure HOW to introduce himself. To his surprise, the dark-haired woman snorted in reaction to the word 'friend.'

"Mel," Lindsay gave her a sharp look, before she peered over at Justin curiously. "Nice to meet you, Justin. How did you and Brian meet?"

"How do they EVER meet?" Mel interjected, ignoring her partner's admonition. "Where do you think?"

"Uh..." Justin looked over helplessly at his lover as Brian slid his arm around him to rest it reassuringly against the small of Justin's back as if to protect him from a 'different' sort of fairytale character - the big, bad wolf.

"Yeah," Brian replied sarcastically, "We met in the backroom at Babylon while Gus watched; that's why he knows him." He glowered at his adversary. "Give me a break, Mel!" he snapped, not sure if he was angrier more for himself or for Justin. "Can we save the inquisition for later, since the play's about to start? I'd kind of like to avoid sitting in the nosebleed section."

Mel shook her head in disgust, but turned and silently headed toward the steps leading out into the auditorium.

Lindsay noticed how uncomfortable Justin appeared in light of Mel and Brian's testy exchange. She didn't quite know what to think of him. He seemed polite enough, but he was definitely not the sort of man Brian would normally involve himself with. Just knowing Brian had brought another man here to see their son in a play, also, was unheard of for him; there must be something special about this one, then, she decided. She had to admit she was dying of curiosity as well. "I'm sorry if Mel sounded brusque," she told him as they turned to follow her partner toward the steps. "Just how _did_ you and Brian meet?" She couldn't help asking.

"Lindsay," Brian warned her under his breath, pinching his nose as he felt the beginnings of a tension headache commencing. "Later." He stared at her meaningfully before she finally nodded as the three of them walked down the steps to search for some seats, Brian's hand still lightly touching Justin's back as they descended.

Brian was grateful a few minutes later that due to the crowd he and Justin wound up in a pair of seats close to, but separate from, the two women. He glanced over at his companion with concern, noticing how quiet he had become. "Justin?" The blond turned his head to look at him questioningly, the crowd nearby murmuring in anticipation as the time quickly crept toward 7. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," he was told, but it was missing Justin's customary enthusiasm.

Brian reached over to briefly squeeze his leg right above Justin's knee to get his attention. "Don't let them get to you," he told him as he leaned over closer so he wasn't overheard. "They're not used to...seeing me with someone." He turned his gaze away then, sensing Justin's eyes upon him. This...'touchy-feely' sort of talk made him uncomfortable to say the least. He felt like he had already exposed a little too much of his heart to this man. But there was something about Justin that urged him to do it; something he couldn't quite admit to or deny.

Justin stared over at Brian thoughtfully. It was such a short statement, relatively speaking, that Brian had uttered. But he knew somehow that it spoke volumes about Brian's feelings for him. As the curtain rose and the play began, he didn't have time to question Brian about it further, nor was it an ideal location to discuss something so personal between them. But he knew he had to learn more; he _wanted _to learn more. He wanted to know everything about Brian and his life. The lights dimmed then, and the stage captured both men's attention as Justin subtly reached over to find Brian's hand and link them together; a few seconds later, Brian's fingers intertwined with his and returned the grip firmly.


	17. Play Acting - or For Real?

_The two mothers continue to learn some surprising details about the man who has accompanied Brian to the play. _

* * *

><p>Seated in the same row several seats away, and waiting for Gus to make his first appearance on stage, Lindsay's attention was drawn to her friend and the young, handsome blond that had accompanied him to the play - the man who their son seemed so smitten with somehow. Her mouth hung open slightly as she noticed the two of them sitting closely together, casually <em>holding hands <em>as if it were the most natural thing in the world_. _"I don't believe it," she murmured as Mel turned her head to peer over at her curiously. She cocked her head toward the far end of the row as Mel followed her gaze to see what she was observing.

Mel's eyes widened as she soon noted the focus of her partner's stare. Brian - and, _what was his name_? Yes, _Justin_. Brian and Justin. _Holding hands_. "Holy shit," she murmured as Lindsay nodded with a smile. "I...I don't believe it, either," she whispered to her. "_Brian_?!"

"Yes, Brian," Lindsay replied softly, secretly thrilled that her friend had apparently found someone to care about. "I'm...happy for him."

"But..._Brian? _The man who fucks them once and then dumps them like yesterday's garbage?" She glanced around, noticing some nearby parents peering over at her with disapproval in reaction to her choice of language. Lowering her voice, she added, "He would never..." Her voice trailed off, unable to complete the sentence. Just when she thought in her job as an attorney she had seen and heard everything, she was finding out that she had not. She would have never in her wildest dreams expected what she was seeing; this was not the actions of a man who was normally so cavalier about relationships. He didn't hold hands with one-time fucks, let alone even remember their names or bring to a play of all things. Without really knowing anything substantial about this man, she somehow knew this person had to be different. Was it possible? Could someone like Brian Kinney change? Even _care_ about someone other than Gus? Because she had to reluctantly admit - when it came to Gus, Brian DID possess feelings, caring feelings, even parental love and affection for their little boy. But that was the ONLY person he had ever cared that much about. Was that about to change, though? Perhaps she was reading too much into it. But she had to concede that it was highly unusual for him.

Just then, the piano at stage right began to play the opening strands of the play's musical score, and everyone's attention was drawn to the stage, including Mel's, Brian's odd behavior temporarily pushed aside.

* * *

><p><em>One Hour Later...<em>

The lights came back up for the last scene of the play - the wedding scene between a now fancily-dressed Gus and his 'bride,' Belle, a curly-haired moppet named Leah, with cherry-red lips and a cherubic face, dressed in a fancy, satin-and-tulle bridal gown and - by the blissful look on her face -apparently loving every minute of it as she gazed at Gus adoringly. Gus, on the other hand, appeared decidedly uncomfortable as the 'priest' - played by one of his classmates and wearing a fake beard and flowing robes - began the marriage ceremony. He continually fidgeted on his feet, and occasionally pulled at his shirt collar, tiny beats of sweat breaking out on his forehead. Both Gus and his bride-to-be repeated their lines efficiently, although Leah seemed more passionate in her recitation than Gus, as the little girl reached over unexpectedly at one point to try and hold hands with her new groom - only to have Gus snatch his hand away as if he had been bitten.

The crowd tittered in reaction - Brian and Justin included - but then everyone roared with laughter at the pivotal 'kiss the bride' scene a few seconds later, as the two little thespians turned to look at each other, and Leah impetuously grabbed Gus by the upper arms and firmly plastered one on his lips - only to have a horrified Gus promptly wipe his mouth afterward with the back of his white, silk shirt sleeve and grimace as if he had just taken a big bite out of a lemon.

The crowd continued to laugh as the play ended and the curtain closed, signaling the end of the performance. Several seconds later, the curtains parted once more as each little actor or actress came back out onto the stage in pairs to take their obligatory bows, with Gus and Leah walking back out together as the last couple. The little girl was successfully clutching Gus's hand firmly this time - a fact that Gus seemed none too pleased about as he glared over at her and tried to snatch his hand away again, this time to no avail - but when his two moms, Brian, and Justin all rose to their feet, along with the rest of the audience, to clap enthusiastically and shout their approval at them, Gus promptly forgot about that issue and beamed back at Justin and his parents as the two of them took a bow.

"Bravo, Sonny Boy!" Brian shouted at him as everyone continued the prolonged appreciation. "Way to go, Gus!" Inserting his two fingers between his lips, he let out an ear-piercing whistle, causing the parents around him to wince in reaction to the sound. Finally, after several more seconds, the young students scurried backstage, and the crowd began to filter out or mingle in small groups as they waited for their children to join them.

"Well, you were right about Gus having to kiss his classmate," Justin said with a laugh as the two of them stood at the side of the aisle, waiting for Gus to change backstage. "He didn't seem to like that kissing scene one bit."

Brian grinned. "I told you," he said. He leaned in closer to Justin to whisper in his ear, "He doesn't know what he's missing," causing Justin to blush under the glare of the theater lights overhead. Pulling back, Brian flashed his companion a sexy smile. "We can practice our technique some more after I take Gus back home." Brian paused as he cleared his throat, again feeling somewhat unsure around this man - and how being around him made him feel. "That is...if you're planning on staying with me tonight."

Justin's pulse raced in reaction merely at the thought. _Would it always be this way?_ He wondered. And just how in the hell could he hope to go to work for Brian, knowing this sexy man was in the same building with him? It didn't matter if he was working in the Art Department, and Brian was in his own office somewhere else; just the thought that they would no doubt be working on ad campaigns together made him wonder how he was ever going to be able to properly concentrate on his job. But now that he was getting more accustomed to the idea, he knew there was no way he would possibly change his mind; the idea of working with Brian was much too intriguing to pass up.

He sighed regretfully. "Brian, I haven't been back to my dorm room at all today, remember? Despite your attempt to 'clean me up' earlier, I need my own change of clothes and a toothbrush." He shuddered. "I feel like some dumpster diver in this outfit."

"I can provide you with both back at the loft," was the quick reply. "Next objection?"

Justin laughed softly. "Brian..." The other man rolled his lips under like a little boy hoping to get permission to bring home a puppy; a gesture that Justin found extremely endearing. It also made it very difficult to say no. "Fuck, Brian," he complained quietly, reaching over to clasp his hand and squeeze it before letting it go. "Look...I love spending time with you - _and_ Gus..."

Brian peered intently into the sky-blue eyes. "But..."

Justin sighed as he brushed his right hand through his hair awkwardly. "...but I need...I need to keep my own identity, too. I need to remember who I am, and where I came from."

Brian frowned, noticing Mel and Lindsay approaching them out of the corner of his eye. He knew they would not have much time to discuss this, and he needed to find out more. "I don't understand, Justin. I thought you _enjoyed_ being at the loft with me - and Gus. You just said that."

"I _do_," was the firm reply. Justin turned his head then, noticing Gus's two moms walking over; there would be no time to finish their discussion, at least not for the time being. He shook his head regretfully. "Can we talk about this later?" he asked.

Brian nodded, his lips pressed firmly together in what appeared to be irritation. "Count on it," he replied a little curtly, his brows narrowed.

Justin nodded back at him, feeling a little bad that Brian was apparently upset with him. He needed to make him understand how much he appreciated what he had done for him. But he _also_ had to make him realize he needed to feel somewhat independent. After his father had issued his ultimatum about either denying who he was or leaving his house, he had been forced to make his way relatively alone, although having Daphne's support had meant a great deal. He had surprisingly found, though, that even during the lean and stressful times they had shared, the two of them had endured. They had survived, and even found satisfaction in what they had accomplished. For the first time, he had found himself able to be fairly self-sufficient and make his own decisions, good or bad, and he had _liked_ that feeling. How could he explain that to Brian, though, so it didn't sound like he didn't want to be with him? Because he did. He _loved_ being with this man - and his son. And he loved what he was willing to do for him. He was so torn over how to reconcile that at the moment. But somehow he had to try and explain that to Brian; he knew the man well enough by now to know he would not drop the subject.

Lindsay walked up and smiled at the two men, recalling seeing them together during the play and how comfortable they had seemed with each other. "Justin," she greeted him with a nod. "Brian."

Brian rolled his eyes upon noticing the amused expression on his friend's face. _What now?_ "Lindsay," he responded tentatively. "Mel," he added as his 'not-so-favorite' person joined them.

"How did you like the play, Justin?" Lindsay asked politely.

Justin smiled warmly at her. "It was great! Gus was very entertaining as the Beast. That last scene was hysterical, even though I imagine it wasn't supposed to be quite that funny."

Lindsay laughed. "No, it wasn't. I watched him in rehearsal, and Belle was supposed to kiss him on the cheek, not on the lips. Gus wasn't the _only _surprised one!"

Justin nodded at her. "Well, it was very cute," he decided. "He had a real stage presence up there. He's a very charming little boy - and full of energy, too."

The two women exchanged a look between them before Mel commented, "You seem to know Gus pretty well; that's a good description of him."

Justin glanced over at Brian, who nodded slightly as if to say it was okay to explain. "Well, I've known him for a while."

Mel's brows rose in surprise. "A while?"

"Mel..." Lindsay warned her quietly about her insistence on not dropping the subject, even though she was certainly curious as well. By now, a lot of the theatergoers had left the audience area, leaving the four of them relatively alone near their block of seats.

"No, Lindsay, it's a normal question. This is about my son, too, you know."

Brian snorted under his breath; Mel always DID like to mention that fact, ever since he had agreed to sign over his parental rights to her. One thing he would never give up, however, was the shared custody agreement they had settled on; he would never allow them to keep him away from Gus. Thankfully, they had never tried to do that. Even Mel obviously realized his love for his son was genuine.

Mel glared over at him briefly as she studied the young man standing next to her. She wondered just how old he was; it was obvious he was much younger than Brian. HAD they met at one of the bars or clubs in town? Or somewhere else? "Just how long have you known Brian - and Gus?" she probed.

"Well...I first met both of them about a year ago," was the surprising disclosure.

"A _year_ ago?"

Justin nodded. "When they were on vacation down in Pigeon Forge. They came into the restaurant where I worked, and I wound up serving them." He deliberately didn't say anything about Gus almost choking to death; he wasn't sure Brian had ever mentioned that, and something told him it might not be a good idea to bring it up at the moment.

"Oh, _now_ I remember!" Lindsay exclaimed in realization. "_You're_ the one who gave Gus his train whistle! He told us about you when he got home! In fact, he wouldn't stop talking about you for _weeks_!"

"Yeah," Mel joined in. "And he drove us nuts with that whistle, too!"

Justin blushed. "I'm sorry," he told them. "I guess I should have given that more thought. But I knew how much he seemed to love trains..."

"You don't need to apologize, Justin," Lindsay assured him quickly with a smile. "He _loves_ that whistle! We just had to put some constraints on when - and how much - he can use it." She laughed. "He would wear it to bed, if we let him. But we compromised, and he puts it on top of his dresser every night - right next to his Thomas the Tank Engine lamp."

Justin smiled at the thought of him providing so much pleasure to their little boy. "I'm glad he likes it so much," he told her.

"So you're a waiter from Tennessee?"

Brian interjected, "He WAS a waiter from Tennessee."

Mel frowned. "So you're not just visiting?" she asked as Justin shook his head. "Well, how did you wind up being a waiter _here, _then?"

Brian shook his head in irritation; he was already a little perturbed over the thought of Justin pulling away from him earlier. He didn't need Mel to add to his consternation. "He's not a 'waiter.' He's an art student at PIFA. And a damn good one, too." He considered whether to mention Justin was about to come work for him, but decided against it for now. There was no reason they particularly needed to know that at the moment.

Justin flushed over the praise as Lindsay gasped in awe, just as Brian had hinted she would. "You're an art student, Justin? I'm an artist, too! What sort of art major are you?"

"Mainly painting," he told her with a smile. "I enjoy different media, but mainly acrylics and pencil sketches. I also enjoy working with graphic arts. Do you paint, too?"

Lindsay nodded. "Not as much as I would like," she admitted. "Gus keeps me pretty busy. But I used to teach art at one of the schools here. I'd like to get more involved with it again one day soon." She added, "I'd love to see some of your work."

Justin beamed. "That would be great! I'd appreciate your opinion."

Brian cleared his throat. "You've already seen some of his art work, Lindsay."

His friend frowned. "I have? When? Where? Are you exhibiting some of your works some place, Justin? That would be quite an accomplishment for a student at PIFA." _So Justin must be in his late teens or early twenties? _ _He WAS a lot younger than Brian, then, adding even more to the mystery regarding their relationship._

Justin shook his head. "No, but I would love to do that one day." He glanced over quickly at Brian, making one more internal decision: he wasn't going to disclose that he would be working in all likelihood at Kinnetik come Monday. He didn't know enough about these women to accurately gauge what their reaction would be, especially the more cynical one named Melanie. Besides, he technically wasn't employed there _yet_; he knew all too well by now that sometimes things don't go the way you plan, so he decided it was best to just leave that little piece of information out.

Lindsay nodded. "Well, it's quite an accomplishment, just getting accepted into PIFA," she observed. That had actually been one of her dreams a long time ago; but it had never materialized. To this day, she wondered if it would have made a difference if she, too, had obtained the proper mentoring and training to go along with her raw talent. The old motto of '_Those that can, do; those that can't, teach,_' came to mind as she winced slightly, the hurt still there, albeit deeply hidden by now.

"He wasn't just accepted into PIFA, Lindsay," Brian quietly informed her. "He was given a grant to attend."

Lindsay's eyes widened in astonishment as she turned to stare over at Justin. "Not the Livingston Endowment Award? The one that's only offered to one student a year?"

Justin's face turned red as he nodded. She knew about that?

"Wow! You must really be smart AND talented, then, Justin, because that is a highly sought-after award," she told him with grudging admiration. She still didn't quite understand the dynamics involved between him and Brian, but her opinion of this young man suddenly rose dramatically. She knew all too well how desirable - but also how competitive and difficult - it was to obtain that generous grant.

"Thank you," Justin told her softly, feeling somewhat embarrassed by all the attention.

Brian couldn't help the pride from showing on his face. He didn't know if he had a _right _to that feeling - after all, he hadn't been responsible for Justin's success, it was mainly his friend Daphne's intervention and Justin's abilities and intelligence that had secured it - but nonetheless he still felt proud FOR him.

"Brian, you mentioned I've already seen some of Justin's work. If he hasn't been exhibited anywhere, how is that possible?"

"Remember the sketch you saw in my office of Gus with the engineer from our trip? The one you tried for weeks to wrestle away from me?" Justin had wound up giving him that sketch before he and Gus had returned home as a remembrance of their time together, and because he had admired it so much. What Justin _didn't_ know, though, was that he had paid a hefty price to have the smallish sketch properly framed, and it was prominently sitting atop his credenza behind his desk at Kinnetik. Lindsay had come to visit one day soon after he had placed it there, and had fallen in love with it. Despite her fervent and persistent pleas to have it, Brian resisted her request. He would never part with that picture in a million years, just like the 'outlaw' photo he had of him, Justin, and Gus all dressed up in cowboy gear. He knew that Gus kept a copy of the same photo in his nightstand drawer to look out - claiming it was a 'secret' between just him and his father, because 'outlaws had to protect their true identities' - but he often wondered how neither one of the Munchers had ever seen it. If they had, he was sure they would have asked him about the other man in the portrait, and it was obvious they didn't recognize Justin. His son could apparently be quite the secret keeper when he wanted to be.

"Oh, my God!" Lindsay shrieked as she stared over at Justin in disbelief. "_YOU_ drew that?" Justin nodded again as Lindsay felt just a twang of jealousy flare up. _If only SHE could draw that way..._

"Well, I'm no artist," Mel interjected from beside her. "But I know enough to know talent when I see it. That portrait you drew was amazing." Lindsay had managed to snap a photo of it to show her later, and even without seeing it in person, she could see it was incredibly detailed and realistic. She turned to Brian to mutter, "You're a lucky son of a bitch to have that drawing." She would have loved having that particular drawing to place in her own office. But she knew from the way Brian was fixated on it that he would never part with it. Besides, she knew even if he didn't like it so much, he would never let her have it just out of spite.

Justin blushed. "Thank you," he murmured. He was about to tell her that he would be willing to draw something else for her when they were interrupted by the thundering of small feet running toward them from the stage's steps. A now normally dressed Gus came charging up to them, chock full of energy. "Daddy!" he yelled, making a beeline toward his father, who squatted down like a baseball catcher just before Gus arrived, scooping him up into his arms and picking him up to support him under his butt, just like he used to do when he was a toddler. "Did you see me on stage? I was really good!"

All of the adults laughed at his self-made critique as Brian smiled affectionately at him. "Yes, you were, Sonny Boy. You were definitely the star of the show!"

"You certainly were, Sweetheart," Lindsay praised him as she leaned over to peck him on the cheek. "You were great, wasn't he, Mel?"

Mel nodded. "Yes, you were," she told him warmly with a smile, reaching over to briefly tousle his hair. "You were a natural up there."

Gus beamed as he turned to eye Justin. "Justin, did you see me?" he asked, his eyes lit up with excitement.

Justin smiled. "I sure did. I enjoyed your performance immensely."

Gus scrunched up his face. "What does _immensely _mean? Is that good?"

"Oh, it's very good," Justin reassured him. "And you were very handsome up there during the wedding scene," he added.

"Yeah, Sonny Boy, how did it feel to kiss the bride?" Brian teased him, knowing precisely what sort of reaction he was going to get.

Gus huffed in irritation. "Daddy, she kissed me on the _mouth_! I told her NOT to do that, but she did it anyway! And she grabbed my hand, and wouldn't let go. She said she's going to marry me for real when we grow up, too! What is wrong with that girl?" he asked, sighing heavily. "

The adults burst out laughing over his reaction as Gus looked at them in confusion, wondering what was so funny.

"That's girls for you, Gus," Brian quipped. "Very unpredictable." He turned to look at Justin next to him as he added, "That's why I much prefer boys." Just like he figured, Justin's face turned red - just before Justin reached over and impulsively smacked him on the arm, making Gus giggle.

The two women exchanged a surprised look over how easily the three of them interacted with each other, like some long-time family unit. Justin was a lot younger than Brian, but it obviously didn't affect - or bother - either one of them. And Gus was definitely enjoying being in their company.

"Ready for your meat lover's pizza, Mr. Beast?" Brian asked his son, who nodded enthusiastically. He turned to the two women to advise, "I'll drop him off after dinner." Lindsay nodded at him in agreement as Brian turned to go, Justin hesitating for a moment. "Justin, coming?" he asked.

Justin nodded as he turned to face the two women. "It was nice to meet you both," he told them politely.

"You, too, Justin," Lindsay told him with a slight smile.

"Yeah, nice to meet you, Justin," Mel joined in as Justin nodded back at them. The two women watched as Justin walked over to father and son to join them and Brian gently lowered his son to the ground between them. Gus promptly grabbed both men's hands and began to walk off with them. The two women watched as their son skipped happily between them - and then as if on cue, Brian and Justin raised their hands just enough to lift Gus off the ground so he could swing lightly between them. They heard him shriek in delight as the three disappeared out the exit door and into the lobby.

"What do you make of _that_?" Lindsay mused as she shook her head in amazement. "It's as if they've know each other for ages. Gus is _never_ like that with strangers."

Mel shook her head as well. "No, he isn't." She paused for a moment before turning to face her partner. "But something tells me we're going to be seeing a lot of Justin."


	18. Decision Not So Firm

_Justin starts to waver regarding his choice about moving in with Brian. What will his ultimate decision be? _

_Thirty Minutes Later...Delmonico's Restaurant_

"Last piece, Daddy," Gus told his father, as he dangled the 'prize' in front of him.

Brian shook his head. "You eat it, Sonny Boy," he told him with a look of amusement. Gus nodded before pulling off a huge piece of it with his teeth and proceeding to shove an insane amount of the slice into his mouth.

"Not so much, Gus!" Brian scolded him gently in alarm. "You want Justin to have to perform the Heimlich on you again?"

"WhsthHmlock?" was the garbled response.

"Chew before you swallow that, Gus!" Brian's eyes widened; he watched intently as Gus did as he was instructed, chewing several times before he finally swallowed. He made sure Gus's food went down and he appeared to be in no distress before letting out a big sigh of relief. "Sonny Boy, you're going to be the death of me yet. Next time, pull off a _small_ bite, okay? And take a drink of your chocolate milk."

Gus nodded as he placed the remaining piece of pizza down and picked up the plastic glass of milk with both hands to take a big gulp. "Gus..." Brian watched warily until his son placed the glass down on the table with relish, let out a big "Ahh," and then wiped his mustache-lips with the back of his shirt sleeve. He sighed as he turned to Justin, who was sitting on his left, and shook his head in resignation.

Justin laughed at his helpless look, reaching over to squeeze his arm. "The joys of fatherhood," he murmured dryly. "It's such a carefree time." He teased him. "Your son never does anything halfway, does he?"

Brian shook his head with a half-chuckle as he glanced over at the rambunctious subject of their discussion. "No, he doesn't."

"I think he gets that from his father," Justin told him softly as their eyes met.

Brian flashed him a half-smile of agreement. "I guess he does. I don't believe in doing anything halfway. Either do your best - _more_ than your best - or don't do it at all."

"How Yoda of you," Justin replied with a grin as Brian grinned back at him.

Gus watched the two men curiously from his place nearby; there was something about them that piqued his interest. He furrowed his brow in thought for a few seconds before the reason came to him. "Daddy?" he called over to his father as he finished off his last bite of pizza.

"Not with your mouth full, Gus," Brian admonished him slightly, still a little concerned that his son would repeat another sort of 'performance' like the one he had in Tennessee. "Chew, remember?"

Gus huffed in protest under his breath, evoking a snicker from Justin, before chewing a few more times and then swallowing. For good measure, he opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue for evidence afterward, making Brian laugh in spite of himself.

"Much better. Now you were saying, Sonny Boy?"

"You two act just like Mommy and Mama," he declared firmly.

"We do? Why do you say _that_?" He wasn't sure he liked that comparison.

"The way you talk to each other."

"And how DO we talk to each other, Gus?" Brian inquired as he took a sip from his water glass.

"Like you're partners, just like they are." The two women had spoken to him at length about their relationship to each other, telling him that they loved each other very much, and would get married one day as soon as they were allowed to. "Daddy, are you and Justin partners, too?"

Justin turned red, and Brian sputtered slightly in his water glass as he swallowed and put the glass down onto the table before speaking. Glancing at Justin briefly, he finally shook his head. "No, Gus. We're not partners; not like your mom and mama. We don't even live together; you know that." _Not that he didn't want to perhaps remedy that situation..._

"But you look at HIM the same way that Mama and Mommy look at each other," his son pointed out astutely. "So why aren't you partners, too? You like him a lot, don't you?"

"Gus..."

"Well, can I be his boyfriend if you don't want to?" he asked before scrunching up his face in distaste. "I like Justin a lot better than that crazy Leah. She won't leave me alone! She wants me to go steady with her! I don't know what that means...but I don't like it. It sounds bad."

Brian laughed. "I can see your point." He reached over to clasp Justin's hand in his as he added, "But I think you'll have to find a different boyfriend, Buddy. This one's taken...at least I _think_ so."

Justin's heart raced at the sound of Brian's words; he gazed into his face, noting what appeared to be some type of vulnerability there. _Was that possible_? It astounded him that Brian could ever be unsure of himself about _anything_. But he recalled how he had confided in him several months ago about his fear of heights. He imagined Brian probably did not often reveal any sort of 'weakness' to most people, and it filled him with pride to realize that Brian felt comfortable enough to reveal that sort of thing to _him_. Was he that unsure about his place in his life? Didn't he already know how he felt about him? He finally nodded back at him in confirmation, seeing what appeared to be relief on Brian's face as he smiled at him and squeezed his hand in response.

Brian took a deep breath as he placed his napkin down onto the top of the table. "We'd better get you home now, Gus," he told his son as he scooted back from his chair.

"Can't I come back home with you, Daddy?" was the plaintive reply. "Is Justin going to be there?"

"Now, now, Sonny Boy. Don't you start with that. You know the deal; I get you on the weekends. And I promised your moms I would take you home as soon as dinner was over, anyway, or they wouldn't have agreed to this. You'll be back at the loft soon enough."

Gus sighed, but reluctantly complied. "Okay, Daddy," he grumbled as he twisted his body and jumped off the chair. "Justin?"

Justin smiled as he, too, pushed back from the table and rose to stand next to Brian. "Yeah, Buddy?" He stooped down to straighten up Gus's shirt collar, and roll up his sleeves slightly to make them uniform, an action that did not go unnoticed by Brian. His stomach fluttered at the tender look on Justin's face for his son - and his son's transparent look of love on his. He had no doubt that Gus worshipped the ground that Justin walked on - and truth be told, so did he.

"Will you be there this weekend when I come to see Daddy?"

Justin hesitated. How should he answer that question? He honestly didn't know what to say. He finally settled on saying, "I don't know, Gus. But I'm sure we'll see each other again soon somehow. Don't worry," he reassured him with another smile.

Brian cleared his throat as he placed a tip on the table. "Ready to go, boys?" he asked as Justin and Gus nodded back at him. The three of them headed toward the exit with Brian clutching the check, his thoughts occupied with what he figured was going to be a serious discussion coming up between him and a certain, independent blond.

_Forty Minutes Later..._

Brian was relieved to see Justin's used vehicle parked at the curb in front of the loft when he returned from dropping off his son. When Justin had insisted on stopping by Kinnetik to pick up his car, he wondered if it might be a way for him to avoid coming back here. But he should have known that someone like Justin wouldn't do that; still, he was glad to see the familiar, nondescript sedan parked in front as he pulled up behind him and turned off the headlights and the motor.

"Been waiting long?" he asked as he closed the door behind him to walk over to the younger man.

Justin shook his head. "Just a few minutes. Gave me some time to think."

Brian nodded, not quite sure how to interpret that. "Come on up, then," he asked, holding his hand out in tour-guide fashion. Justin paused as if to hesitate for a few seconds before he nodded, walking ahead of Brian toward the front door. A few minutes later, they had entered the foyer, rode up in the elevator - both of them standing rather awkwardly facing each other in silence - and were inside the loft.

"Sit down," Brian suggested as he slid the door shut behind them. "Water? Beer?"

"Some water, please," Justin replied as he walked over and sat down on the edge of the couch. Brian retrieved two chilled bottles of water from the fridge before joining him, handing one of the bottles to him before he sat down next to him, their knees angled and slightly touching as they faced each other. Brian took a swig from his bottle before putting it down on the coffee table in front of him, noticing Justin nursing his own bottle with both hands cupped around the container as if it were a lifeline of some sort.

He waited until Justin had taken a drink and lifted his gaze to peer into his eyes before he spoke again. "Justin, we need to talk about what happened earlier."

Justin licked his lips before biting the lower one and nodding. "Yeah, I guess we do."

Brian peered around his living space. "Here we are, Justin. You and me. How many nights does this make now since we ran into each other again? Several, I know; I've lost track of how many by now. I enjoy your company, and I think it's obvious you enjoy mine. And my son thinks you're right up there with pepperoni pizza and steam engine trains."

Justin had to smile at that. "That's quite an elevated stature. You know how fond I am of Gus; I think he's a great kid." He paused for a few seconds before continuing teasingly, "His father's not half-bad, either; in fact, he's pretty damn amazing." He took a deep breath and let it out, the plastic of the water bottle crackling slightly as he continued to hold onto it tightly. The tilting lilt to his voice changed as he added, "I...I don't think I've really thanked you for what you did, Brian. While I like to think I could have handled it on my own, I never could have come up with the solution that you did. If you hadn't offered me employment at Kinnetik...well, you know what would have likely happened to my enrollment at PIFA. And I really love it there. I've learned so much in the past year about art history, proper technique, discipline, self-motivation; it's been everything I could have hoped for...and more. For the first time in my life, I truly believe that I can really have a career as an artist. It's what I've dreamed about for so long."

Brian nodded. "I'm glad to hear that," he told him sincerely. "It would have been a major, fucking waste of talent for you to do nothing less. It's what you were born to do, Justin; just like I was born to be a consummate advertising genius." That earned a half-smile from his companion as he continued, "I know your grant covers room and board...but I'm sure you don't have to reside there. In fact, I imagine they would be more than happy for you to relinquish the dorm space. I have more than enough room here, and you've practically been here all the time since we hooked up again. Gus is here on the weekends, but we've managed quite well, even then. So the question is, Mr. Taylor...why are you against the idea of moving in with me? Do you have an objection to hot sex and carpooling to work?"

Justin sighed as he put his water bottle down onto the coffee table. "You know that's not the reason, Brian. Although it IS a bit awkward when Gus is here and we want to...well, you know..."

"I still don't understand, though," Brian replied quietly as he reached over to grip Justin's hand, feeling it oddly cold from his lover having been clutching the chilled, plastic bottle; normally, Justin's hand was so warm. "Why is it such a problem? You're over here all the time anyway. What would the difference be?"

Justin glanced down at their conjoined hands before lifting his gaze to stare into Brian's eyes. His face seemed so open right now, so readable. It was obvious that Brian was being sincere about his wish for them to move in together. But it was such a definitive, irrevocable action; in a way, he guessed it frightened him just a little; that, and the intensity of his feelings toward this intriguing man.

"Brian...All my life, I have felt like someone else was orchestrating it. Even when things seemed to be going well at home; that is, before my father turned into a massive homophobe and kicked me out, anyway," he explained wryly. "Even then, my father and mother always dictated where I went and what I did. They even preplanned all our family vacations each year, months in advance. The idea of being spontaneous or impetuous was never an option. They had to have everything all figured out before they could so much as change their cable service, or even go to a fucking movie on the weekend. I knew it was preordained that I would go to private school; they would have never accepted anything less, especially my father, who went to St. James before I did." He paused before explaining, "So if I move in with you, I'm afraid it will feel like I'm relinquishing control again, just like I always seem to do. Even with my grant for PIFA, it might have been my accomplishments that got me in the door, but Daphne was the one who really obtained my grant; if she hadn't submitted my artist's proofs and the required paperwork, I wouldn't even BE at PIFA right now. But now that I'm here, these past few months at PIFA have made me feel..." He struggled to find the right words. "It's finally given me some freedom, some guidance over my life. I was so fucking excited when Marcum offered me that job," he lamented. "I felt like I was finally an important part of something monumental, maybe even life-changing." He laughed then; a dry, humorless laugh. "It was _life-changing_, all right. Just not in a good way." He gently detached his hand from Brian's, nervously rubbing his hands on his denim-clad thighs before he rose to his feet to walk over to the large, expansive windows of Brian's loft. He loved this view from Brian's residence; the lights below twinkled like a thousand, tiny, pinpricks of light, even though he was only on the fourth floor. For just a moment - a brief moment - he could pretend there wasn't any bigotry or hate in the world, and he could lose himself in other, more pleasant thoughts.

He could see Brian's reflection in the window as his lover approached him quietly from behind; Brian gazed at both their reflections before he slid his arms around Justin's body, pulling him closer as he murmured in his ear, "I understand what you're saying, Picasso. I'm not going to lie, and say I like it. But I understand." Justin trembled slightly in his embrace over the silky-sounding voice as he melted into Brian's arms. "That doesn't mean I'm going to stop trying to convince you, though." He rubbed his cheek against Justin's, hearing a sigh of contentment escape the full lips. He loved the small sounds that Justin made whenever they were together, especially in the throes of sex. Justin pivoted around in Brian's arms as their mouths met for a tentative kiss that quickly transformed into a deeper, more passionate one. Sliding his arms around Brian's neck, he angled his head to allow Brian's tongue entrance to the inside of his mouth.

Brian's left hand snaked up to hold the back of Justin's head firmly in place as they continued to kiss. He felt like he wanted to devour this man, body and soul, and he was planning on making the most of their time alone. He reluctantly broke off the kiss, noticing with satisfaction the well-ravaged lips, as he asked his lover, "Whether you decide to move in or not...at least say you'll stay here with me tonight."

Justin gazed up into Brian's face, so beautifully handsome in the shadows cast by the recessed lighting of the loft. Brian was always such a magnificent-looking man, and commanded everyone's attention no matter where he was or what he was doing; but here, with his face so open and his emotions laid inexplicably bare, he was absolutely mesmerizing. How could he possibly say no?

"It's just for tonight, Justin," Brian assured him quietly as if he had heard his silent ruminating. He couldn't deny he was somewhat frustrated by Justin's decision, but his pride and need to be self-sufficient was part of who Justin was. He had to accept his choice; at least for now.

Justin replied wryly, "You realize once more that I have nothing here to wear, except for what I have on my back."

Brian smirked; now this was something he could handle. "Have you learned nothing? For what we're going to do, Picasso, you won't _need_ anything to wear. Besides, it'll save me from having to track you down for a signature tomorrow."

The blush that bloomed on Justin's face promptly gave way to a frown as he asked, "Signature?"

"For the intern job. You DO want it all nice and legal, don't you?"

Justin appeared momentarily flustered. "Uh, yes...of course," he told him. _How did things go from spending the night to a business deal? _

Brian nodded solemnly before he cupped his hands to either side of Justin's face to whisper, "Good." He smiled, his eyes boring into the light blue ones that were staring back at him uncertainly. "But for now..." His voice took on a smoky tone as he leaned down to kiss his lover before pulling back to stare intently into his eyes once more. "Let's dispense with the legal issues, and get back to the more pleasurable activities." He grinned. "Mr. Taylor, may I formally introduce you to my bedroom?"

Justin smiled in relief, one side of his mouth lifting upward in amusement. "I think that can be arranged."

_The Next Morning..._

For once, it was good to wake up in a bed at Brian's loft, rather than the couch. Justin snuggled deeper into the plush mattress, feeling Brian's arm imperceptibly tighten around his belly as he lay on his side, the sheet draped around his lower torso to ward off the slight chill of the morning air. Somehow the two of them had wound up spooned against each other during the night, even though they had been lying side-by-side on their backs after they had fucked - twice. It hadn't taken Justin long to fall into an exhausted slumber afterward, soon after a sated Brian had drifted off to sleep first.

He sighed softly in contentment as he simply lay there, allowing his senses to supersede everything else. The touch of Brian's arm around his bare skin, the smell of his lover's scent, the soft ticking of the alarm clock on the nightstand; even the occasional, muted siren somewhere off in the distance, made him feel profoundly secure and relaxed. It was an amazing feeling, especially in light of his recent tribulations with Marcum. He had never felt so treasured and safe as he did at this moment. He breathed in and out softly, striving not to awaken his lover, as he briefly allowed himself the possibility of this becoming a regular occurrence - going to bed with Brian at night, and waking up in his arms each morning. His inner self battled over the conflict; one side proud and needing to feel in control and self-sufficient, while the other part relished the feelings Brian gave him, and the craving he felt for the..._love_? _Was that what this was?_ The love that he felt for Brian, and what he could provide for him? Was it that strong? All he knew was that he felt deeply for this man, and he was certain that Brian cared about him, also - enough to protect and provide for him, support, and even defend him when the need arose. He sighed softly again in silent turmoil. _If only life were easy and uncomplicated..._

"What is it?" he heard Brian murmur behind him unexpectedly. He felt his warm breath wash over his skin from behind as he slowly turned onto his back to stare up at him. Brian's hair was slightly bedhead skewed, jaunting out in various directions, but even just having awakened, his eyes were clear and intense, and he was - as always - so damned amazing looking. Almost like instant radar, Justin's pulse quickened merely at the sight of him.

_How much was he willing to say to Brian? All of it? Part of it?_ He finally shook his head, deciding he was not quite ready to bare his heart to him. He smiled reassuringly. "It's nothing. I'm fine." Brian, however, gazed silently into his eyes and raised one eyebrow pointedly until Justin sighed in resignation. He knew that look; he was going to have to reveal part of his inner thoughts, or Brian would not let it drop.

"I'm just...thinking about what we discussed yesterday," he admitted at last.

Brian's pupils darted from side-to-side as his eyes bored into his, a trait that Justin found both mesmerizing, but also a little disconcerting; he noticed that Brian always seemed to do that when he was concentrating on something he was saying, almost like he was shutting out everything and everyone else in the world. It made him feel...special; different. Somehow - with the exception of his son - he knew that Brian did not do that with anyone else except him. It made him feel a little flustered as a result, and also made it hard for him to formulate his words.

"You mean about not moving in with me." It wasn't a question from Brian, but a statement.

Justin nodded in confirmation, trembling slightly as Brian reached out to lightly stroke his upper arm with his fingers in a casual, up-and-down-motion; it was a small action, almost done subconsciously by his lover - but as usual, it made Justin's entire body tingle, and his heart race. It never failed to amaze him how his body and heart reacted to this man, no matter what they were doing or where they were.

Brian nodded back at him, gazing into his eyes thoughtfully. Part of him wanted to cry out in jubilation over that statement, while the other part wanted to show some restraint. He was trying very hard to show Justin that he not only cared deeply for him, but he also respected him, and his opinions. Whatever decision Justin would make would have to come from him, without any prodding or coaching. "I see," he finally murmured as he continued to lightly stroke Justin's upper arm. "Does that mean you're having second thoughts about your decision?" He stopped his caressing motion as he awaited Justin's response. _The ball is in your court, Picasso...This is your canvas to paint, not mine..._

Justin worried his lower lip with his teeth before licking his lips to wet them. He blinked his eyes slowly before gazing back at the man he was...yes, the man he knew deep down that he was falling in love with; if he hadn't already. He wouldn't lie to him; he _couldn't _lie to him. "Yes," he whispered at last. "I guess I am." He reached over to push some rebellious hair back from Brian's eyes. Those amazing, intense, hazel eyes...

Brian nodded, his heart thumping wildly in his chest. He hoped that Justin didn't realize that, however. "What made you reconsider?" he couldn't help asking, extremely curious. He had seemed so sure of his convictions last night.

How should he answer that? Justin wondered. He grazed Brian's left cheek with the tips of his fingers, dropping his palm down onto Brian's chest as he replied, "I don't know. I guess when I woke up this morning - in your arms," he added, his face warming a little in embarrassment over his romanticism, "I decided that I could maybe get used to going to bed with you at night...and waking up in the morning like this."

Brian rolled his lips under in pleasure. "Oh, you did, did you?" he whispered huskily.

Justin nodded. "I also reminded myself that adhering to one's principles sometimes isn't the only important thing."

Brian placed his hand over Justin's, bringing his fingers up to his mouth as he kissed the top of his hand, hearing Justin sigh softly in reaction as he curled his fingers around Brian's. "And just when do you think you will conclude this _rethinking of your priorities_?" he asked, gripping Justin's hand in his as he held it lightly between them.

"Soon," Justin promised with a reflective smile. "Very soon."

Brian nodded. "Well, then...in the meantime, can I attempt to _influence _you somehow?"

Justin gazed back at him. "I'm not sure that would be very ethical," he began tentatively, thinking he noticed a slight change in Brian's expression. "But, well...fuck it. I'll try my best to tolerate it," he added solemnly before his mouth widened into a grin. He squeaked as Brian suddenly pounced on him, draping himself over his smaller frame and pinning him to the mattress. He gripped Justin's wrists and held their hands above Justin's head as he leaned down to bite one nipple, hearing Justin moan in reaction. Deciding he liked that response, he swirled his tongue around the same, pebbled surface, wetting it thoroughly before gliding his tongue over to the opposite nipple, feeling Justin squirming slightly beneath him.

"Brian," was the throaty groan, half-plea, half-prayer. "Oh, fuck..."

Brian lifted his head to smile sexily down at him. "Oh, I'm going to enjoy trying to change your mind, Mr. Taylor. Trust me, we're just getting started."

Justin whimpered as Brian bit down on the other nipple, and then proceeded to lave it with his tongue like the other one. He couldn't help leaning down then to nibble Justin's lower lip before sliding his tongue inside to deeply kiss him. God, he would never get enough of his taste, his smell, his touch.

Breaking off the kiss, he whispered into his mouth, "Say yes, Justin."

Justin chuckled before breathlessly advising him, "You'll have to do better than that. I know your M.O. already, remember?" He laughed at the pained look on Brian's face as he added, "Surely you're not giving up so easily?"

Brian snorted. "I don't think so, Picasso. I told you before I'm an advertising genius, not some fucking rookie."

"Prove it," was the saucy response as Justin had the gall to smirk back at him, suddenly loving this game of persuasion.

For the next several hours, Brian attempted to do just that, fucking Justin slow and then hard, letting him ride his cock afterward yet a third time, and then, finally - when he tried and tried unsuccessfully to 'influence' him to say what he wanted so fervently to hear - he eventually with great reluctance had to give up for the time being, exhausted more than he ever thought possible. He had fucked Justin hard and fast, and then made, sweet, slow love to him. Both had evoked all sorts of delicious, appreciative sounds from his lover, and had brought them intense, mind-shattering climaxes. But try as he might, he couldn't get the one sound out of Justin that he so desperately wanted, but would not force from him: _Yes. _

Later that night - lying on his back as he held a sweaty, warm, and sticky, Justin in his arms after another marathon round of sex, he closed his eyes and started to drift off into an exhausted, sated sleep. Today had been a good day, despite the temporary roadblock - and at least he had Justin here, now, in his bed, and in his life. That wouldn't change, no matter what. And his friend CJ had been true to his word, couriering over the necessary documents earlier in the day from PIFA to make it official: Justin was now a full-fledged member of the Kinnetik Team.

"Yes."

Brian frowned. The word was barely above a whisper in the darkness, but he could swear he had heard it nonetheless. He held his breath, wondering if he was hallucinating. _Was it possible_?

"Brian? Did you hear me?"

He HAD heard that this time - clearly. He turned his head slightly in an attempt to look into Justin's face, but with their present positions and in the dimness it was impossible. "I thought you were asleep," he whispered in the dark, his hand curled around Justin's shoulder.

"Not yet." A pregnant pause followed as Brian waited to hear more, but nothing followed.

"Justin, you don't have to decide anything right now..."

After several seconds of somewhat anxious trepidation on Brian's part, Justin twisted his body to lie half-on, half-off Brian, his eyes shining in the muted lighting as he replied, "I know. But the answer's going to still be the same."

Brian gazed up into his beautiful face. "And...?"

Justin smiled down at him after a few seconds longer before nodding. "Yes, Brian. Yes. I've decided that I want to work with you, go to sleep with you, wake up with you, and...make love with you...every single, fucking day," he concluded, his face flushing. Was he being presumptuous that Brian felt the same way about their fucking as he did? _No_, he decided, as he gazed into the open look on his lover's face, and the half-smile that was slowly blooming there. The way that Brian held him, protected him, and yes, made love to him when they had sex, left no doubt in his mind that it wasn't just merely an act of extreme gratification.

"Are you sure about this, Justin? You know Gus will still be a major part of my life, too, along with you; that will never change. He's still going to be an...interruption. But I... he's my son..."

Justin smiled. "I wouldn't have it any other way. That's one of the reasons why I..." His voice trailed off; he was afraid, yes, _afraid_ to say that one word aloud, almost as if it would break some sort of magical spell that was cast between them. "...Why I care so much about you. And I love Gus." _And you_, he added silently as Brian nodded.

Brian's heart soared over his lover's words; the words he had been hoping to hear. "And he loves _you_," he told him softly. _Just like his father, _he couldn't help adding in his head. One day he would speak that word aloud, he vowed. "Then it's settled then," he told him as Justin nodded, his mind finally made up.

"There IS one more favor I need to ask of you, though," Brian added unexpectedly.

Justin furrowed his brow in confusion, but quickly replied, "Of course. You know I'll do whatever you ask," he answered truthfully.

Brian smiled. "Good. Tomorrow will be the perfect day, too, since we both have the day off, and Gus will be here," he decided.

"What?"

Brian grinned. "You'll find out soon enough." Justin sighed in frustration as Brian reached up with his left hand to grasp the back of Justin's neck and pull him down gently but firmly for a brief kiss. "Go to sleep, Picasso," he murmured against his ear after they broke it off a few seconds later, nuzzling his neck as Justin lay sprawled on top of him. He slid his arms around Justin's waist, their legs tangled together as Justin laid his head on Brian's chest, sensing he would get no more information from his lover tonight.

"Good night, Justin," Brian whispered as he reached to pull a nearby sheet over their lower bodies.

Justin smiled, feeling the strong, regular breathing of Brian's heart under him. It was a reassuring sound, a strong sound, and as he listened to its steady cadence he couldn't think of a better place he would ever want to be. "Good night," he whispered back, before closing his eyes and drifting off into sleep.

Chapter End Notes:

_Probably one last part to go, depending on how I cut it up. Thanks for all the support! It is much appreciated._


	19. New Relationship, New Beginnings

_Brian takes his boys on a ride - but what sort of 'ride' will it be? _

_Saturday Morning - 9:30 a.m._

Brian put two fingers over his lips as his son softly giggled beside him, both of them poking their heads through the bedroom door panels to observe a mound of covers piled high on the right side of his father's bed. The 'mound' was motionless, but Brian had already told his son what was underneath it, and Gus couldn't wait to find out for himself.

Holding his hand, Brian counted out 1, then 2...then, on the count of 3, Gus went rushing into his father's bedroom, flying on top of the mattress like he was Superman reincarnated - smack dab in the middle of the 'mound.' "Wake up, Justin!" he shrieked before giggling again when the covers began to move like a giant, ocean wave.

"Wha...?" Justin shot up from the bed into a sitting position, flinging Gus off him like he was a giant gnat; the little boy managed to hold onto the side of the bed to keep from falling, but began to squeal as Justin threw the covers back and tackled him, tickling him briefly and laughing before he flopped back down onto the bed next to him.

He turned his head to peer over at the mischievous boy who was sitting cross-legged next to him; for once, he noticed Gus wasn't wearing the wooden train whistle around his neck - thankfully, or he might have been slapped in the face with it just now. "When did YOU get here?" he asked in amusement, still trying to become fully awake.

"A little while ago. Daddy told me it was my job to come and wake you up, so I did," he announced.

Justin slid up to brace his back against the headboard as he peered over at Brian; his lover was leaning against the door panels with an amused look on his face. "Oh, he did, did he?" Brian grinned back at him in reaction.

Gus nodded. "Yeah...he said you needed to take a shower, and get ready."

Justin glanced over at Brian quizzically as he replied, "Get ready for _what_?"

"It's a secret," Gus told him with a smile. He began to bounce up and down on the bed while still in a seated position as he said, "Hurry up and get dressed! Daddy said we'll pick you up something to eat on the way!"

Justin smoothed his hair down, giving his head a brief scratch as he replied, "On the way to _where_?"

"Can't tell!" Gus insisted. He clutched Justin's wrist and began to tug him toward the edge of the bed, sliding off to stand next to it. "Come on, Justin! Or we'll have to leave you here, and Daddy says he needs your 'pin-yun.'" He frowned as he noticed Justin's dress - or lack thereof. "What happened to all your clothes?"

Brian covered his mouth with his hand to keep the smile from showing as Justin turned beet red and snatched the sheet off the bed to wrap it around his waist. "Uh...I guess they must have slipped off during the night," was the only reply he could think of.

Brian chuckled as he walked into the room. "We'll have to make sure you wear tighter clothes the next time you come to visit, Justin," he teased as he walked over and pecked him on the cheek, earning a scowl from his lover. Gus peered up into his father's face curiously.

"He doesn't look too dirty, Daddy," Gus commented as he looked Justin up and down. "Just a little messy. Are you sure he needs a shower?"

Justin's mouth hung open as Brian leered at him; even with the makeshift outfit he was wearing, he still felt totally naked in light of the ogling his lover was directing his way.

"Oh, he's really dirty, Gus," Brian assured his son with a smirk. "Why don't you go drink the rest of your chocolate milk, and find your cap and whistle, and we'll be right there, okay? Just give us a few minutes so I can get him_ cleaned up_."

Gus nodded, thinking that his daddy and Justin always seemed very concerned about being clean all the time. It seemed like every time he came to visit, they were taking showers. "Okay, Daddy. But hurry up; I want to go!"

Brian laughed as he reached over to tousle his son's hair. "Don't worry, Sonny Boy. Justin and I will take a shower together to conserve water, and save some time. You go sit down and watch a little TV, and we'll be out real soon; I promise."

Justin snickered in reaction as Brian arched an eyebrow at him, waiting until Gus had nodded his head and turned to head out of the bedroom before he pulled his lover into his arms. "What's so funny, Taylor? Didn't you hear there's a water shortage here in the Pitts?"

"No, I can't say that I have," Justin responded with a grin as he slid his arms around Brian's waist and peered up into his twinkling eyes.

"Well, that's because you haven't lived here long enough, then," Brian declared. "Or had the right _incentive_ for conservation."

Justin smiled. "That must be it," he decided. He furrowed his brow. "Just where ARE we going, Brian? Gus seems really excited about it. Another train ride?"

"Well, it's a ride," Brian admitted mysteriously. "But you're going to have to wait to find out where we're going." Justin groaned in frustration as Brian glanced out the doorway to make sure Gus wasn't nearby; reaching down, he quickly pulled the sheet away from his lover's body, noticing his dick was already 'locked and loaded' for action. He smirked. "Come on; time's wasting." He pulled Justin urgently toward the bathroom, grabbing a couple pairs of his briefs along the way from his dresser's top drawer. They would have to do until Justin could go and gather the rest of his things from his dorm room.

"You think I'm going to fit into those?"

Brian grinned as the two of them made it to the shower with quick dispatch and he closed the door behind them to lock it. "Well, you might have to grow into them," he teased. "But they'll do for now."

Justin rolled his eyes, taking a moment to admire his partner's lean form as Brian hurried to discard his loose sleep pants; he noticed he had nothing else on underneath. He arched one eyebrow upward.

"See how dressed YOU are when company shows up unexpectedly at 8 in the morning," Brian explained.

"I already did, remember?"

Brian snorted. "Poor man - only allowed to sleep in until mid-morning. I can see you're going to be a challenge getting up in time each morning to go to work."

"Well, I guess that depends on the encouragement I get," was the saucy reply, before Justin turned more serious. "You're not having second thoughts already, are you? About me moving in, I mean? I haven't given up the dorm room yet." For someone who had resisted the idea for a while, Justin suddenly was feeling a little unsure of himself.

The feeling didn't last long, however, as Brian growled and pushed their bodies together, making Justin gasp. "Not on your life, Taylor! I'm not giving up my perks."

Justin laughed. "I thought that was supposed to be MY line. Well, I'm not giving up MY perks, either..._Boss_."

Brian grinned, his heart quickening as he stared into the vibrant, blue eyes. "Why does that sound kind of kinky?" he quipped. "It never sounds that way when Cynthia says it."

"Cynthia?"

"My executive assistant," he explained as he turned Justin in his arms and pushed him gently toward the shower stall door. "I'll introduce you later," he stated as he reached around Justin to turn the shower on. Giving him a short smack on his butt, he propelled Justin inside and closed the door, the water beginning to fall down gently over them. As he turned Justin in his arms and looked into his face, he smiled. "I think I'm going to enjoy this water conservation." Taking the nylon sponge, he reached to grab his bottle of Armani body soap and poured some into the middle, lathering it before slowly gliding it over Justin's skin. He watched, fascinated, as the suds slowly ran down his lover's shoulder and chest, settling in the crease between his thighs. His cock - hard and pink - was beckoning tantalizingly to him, and he couldn't resist reaching down with his other hand to begin stroking it languidly, receiving a guttural moan from his lover as a reward.

"Fuck, that feels soooo good," Justin virtually purred, as he closed his eyes and threw his head back, feeling the water pouring over his scalp and running down his face. He reached out blindly, locating the strong, sinewy muscles of Brian's upper arms as he held onto them tightly, feeling his legs turning to jelly as Brian continued to stroke him. "Brian..."

Brian was absolutely mesmerized by his lover's reaction to his touch, and the sounds escaping his lips. He smiled as he continued to stimulate his partner with both hands - his left hand continuing to pump his cock, while his right glided the sponge slowly over one erect nipple, and then the other. "You are so fucking sexy," he murmured, feeling Justin's shaft throbbing under his skillful touch. He felt there was nothing so beautiful or quite a turn on as Justin in full arousal mode.

Justin moaned loudly, oblivious at the moment as to whether Gus could hear them or not; he was much too overcome with desire to notice. "Brian...God, take me," he begged as Brian swooped in to kiss his full lips, the water providing an additional component to their lovemaking as it ran down both their faces while they deepened the kiss. Breaking off the kiss several seconds later, he heard Justin whimper in disappointment as he stopped stroking him, knowing if he didn't his lover would come before he wanted him to. Grasping his upper arms, he softly demanded, "Justin, look at me."

Lust-filled blue eyes slowly fluttered open as Justin stared into Brian's face. He thought Brian looked glorious soaking wet, with his hair plastered to his head and the droplets of water trickling down from his eyelashes to his lips - the lips that had just ravaged his so thoroughly that his own were still stinging from the contact. He blinked slowly as Brian gazed intensely back at him in response; his eyes never left his as he watched his lover reach over and pluck a condom package from the built-in shelf on the wall, taking a moment to tear the package with his teeth and throw the discarded material down onto the shower floor.

"Fuck, I want you so badly," Brian growled as he hurriedly slid the condom over his fully-erect shaft; Justin gasped as he abruptly pushed his back against the tiled, shower wall, and gripped his ass to lift him up, Justin's legs instinctively coming to wrap themselves around his waist. They had never fucked in this manner before, but the way Brian was holding him so tightly against the wall provided enough support for him to stay upright; that, and the firm hold he had around Brian's torso as he linked his ankles together for additional support.

"I'm taking you on a ride you'll never fucking forget, Picasso," Brian warned him, his voice low and husky with need. His hands still soapy, he took a moment to finger his lover, apparently taking too long, however, as Justin growled, "Fuck it, Brian! Do it!"

Brian leered at him, his own cock throbbing with need. "Such an impatient man to be my newest employee," he murmured, his expression turning more serious as he stared into Justin's dilated, darkened eyes before he began to assault him on two fronts: his lips and tongue commenced to devour his mouth, while Brian's cock slipped inside the tight hole.

Justin groaned into the kiss as his body went into overdrive from the sensual onslaught. Being kissed and fucked at the same time was almost too much for him to handle. But as Brian slid back out slightly and then rammed back in, they began a steady, deep rhythm that caused him to cry out in ecstasy. From the angle of his body, Brian was able to expertly hit his sweet spot each time, causing him to moan loudly; Brian had to continue kissing him to slightly muffle the vocal sounds as he continued to pound into him relentlessly, able to tell by Justin's constant grunts, moans, and breathy sounds that he was enjoying him being a little rough today.

Tightly gripping Brian's shoulders for support, it didn't take long for Justin's body to tense up, signaling his impending orgasm, as Brian continued to thrust in and out of him; his back was sliding slightly upwards against the slippery shower wall in time with Brian's fucking. "Br...Brian...I...I'm...Aaahhhh!" He cried out loudly against Brian's mouth as his body climaxed, his come spurting copiously out of his hole and coating the two of them. The spray from the shower, now lukewarm, slowly washed the remnants away as Justin clenched his muscles around Brian's cock, causing his lover to follow soon afterward.

Feeling his dick softening, Brian slowly pulled Justin away from the shower wall, allowing him to drop his legs back down onto the tiled floor; if not for him wrapping his arms around Justin's waist, however, his lover would have quickly sunk into a spineless heap onto the hard surface below until his legs stopped quivering. Briefly letting go of him long enough to tie off the condom and throw it down onto the shower floor, he pulled him once more into his embrace.

Brian's strong arms held him gently but firmly as Justin placed his head against his chest and he felt their twin hearts beating rapidly as one. They stood that way together for a few more minutes, the water continuing to rain down on them, until Brian pressed his forehead against his lover's and murmured huskily, "That was some shower." The water by now was barely tepid as he gave Justin one last, lingering kiss before adding, "Come on; we'd better get going."

Justin nodded as the two men exited the shower stall, Brian passing a large, plush towel over to him as the two of them dried off. Fifteen minutes later, they were fully dressed and ready to go, finding a rather impatient Gus waiting for them on the living room couch.

Brian's son promptly shut off the television and turned to face them, his hands on his hips in exasperation. "Justin must have been very dirty," he commented, "...because you took _forever_!"

Justin blushed a bright red as Brian grinned. "He _was_ pretty dirty, Sonny Boy." He stared over at Justin, enjoying his discomfiture as he added, "...But he's all cleaned up now."

Gus nodded. "Can we go now? How many are we going to see, Daddy?"

"As many as it takes until we find one you like," his father answered mysteriously. He smiled broadly at Justin, noting the confused look on his face, as he revealed, "It's a secret between Sonny Boy and me. Right, Gus?" Gus nodded his head vigorously and giggled, walking over to grab Justin's hand.

"Come on, Justin! You have to come with us! Daddy says you get to help choose, too." He began to pull Justin impatiently toward the door as Brian laughed.

Justin merely shook his head in resignation as Brian followed them to the door, knowing for now, at least, he wasn't going to get anything else out of either of the Kinney 'men.'

* * *

><p>Fifteen minutes later, the three of them headed out onto the main highway, electing to travel in Justin's sedan which allowed more room for Gus in the backseat. Justin, however, still had no idea where they were going.<p>

"Don't you think I deserve to know where we're heading, since we're using my car to get there?" he finally asked when he couldn't stand it anymore.

"We're going to..." Gus began to speak as Justin's pulse quickened at the thought of finally knowing their destination. He groaned, however, as Brian give his son 'the eye' from the rearview mirror, and he promptly shut his mouth again. "Oh. I can't tell you. It's a secret!" he finally said with a giggle as Justin huffed in frustration.

"I could claim kidnapping," he warned them. "Being held against my will." Brian snickered as he glared over at his lover. He turned around in his seat to look at Gus and smiled. "Gus...we're buddies, right?" Gus smiled as he nodded his head firmly. "If you tell me where we're going, I'll make sure we stop at the next ice cream store, and buy you a big, fat, hot fudge sundae."

"And how are you going to do that when I'm driving, Picasso?" Brian reminded him. "Nice try."

"But Daddy, I _want _an ice cream sundae!" Gus protested from the backseat. He loved sundaes with gooey chocolate fudge sauce, nuts, two cherries, and lots and lots of whipped cream. It seemed like a small price to pay to reveal his secret.

"Gus..." Brian sighed as he peered over at his companion; he supposed they had left Justin in the dark long enough. "You don't play fair, Taylor; you know how much Gus loves sundaes," he replied as Justin smiled sweetly back at him. He shook his head in defeat. It wasn't as if he wasn't going to find out soon enough, anyway. "Okay. If you must know, we're meeting someone."

"Oh, that clears it up," was the sarcastic reply. "Now I can die happy."

Gus frowned at that statement. Was Justin going to die? His eyes began to fill with worry. He didn't exactly know where people went when they died, but when his goldfish died they had put him in a shoebox and had dug a hole to bury him in the ground, and he had never seen him again. It had made him very sad, and the thought of Justin dying filled him with extreme sadness. Why would it make Justin happy, then? "Are you going to heaven?"

Justin frowned as he glanced over at Brian, before he realized what he had said. "Oh, no, Gus!" he hastily reassured him as he turned around to look at him, feeling guilty when he noticed Gus's sorrowful expression. "I didn't mean I was going to die. It's just an expression. I was kidding...okay? I'm fine." He smiled at him in reassurance.

"You are?"

Justin nodded, his own eyes a little moist. To think that this little boy thought that much of him made him inordinately happy inside for some reason. It also reminded him of his sister, who he missed dearly, and Daphne. He swallowed the lump in his throat. "I'm...fine." Gus nodded back at him, apparently satisfied, but the hesitation and change in his voice did not go unnoticed by Brian.

"Justin..." He waited until his companion turned to look at him before he continued. "Gus, I think it's time for us to tell him where we're going," he addressed his son. But his eyes were on his lover as he told him, "We're meeting a real estate agent in town."

Justin's mouth dropped open; that was the last thing he had been expecting. "A real estate agent? What for?"

Brian's eyes returned to the road as they continued toward the main part of town. "I promised my son that I would find him a place where he could have a proper backyard to play in - and I want him to have his own bedroom." _Separate from us_, was the unspoken thought. At least that's what Justin surmised as he listened to Brian's revelation. "So I thought I would make good on that promise. And since he was going to be here today and I wanted his input, I thought today would be a good day to do that." Brian paused, his eyes still looking ahead as he added, "...And I would like yours as well." He thought better of revealing too much of himself and his emotions, so he added as an afterthought, "Nothing like an artist to give you a better understanding of a home's potential."

Justin nodded. _Yeah...Right..._ He wasn't buying that for one second. Well, not JUST that. He knew that including him was more than just a matter of practicality. He was trying not to read too much into it, but the fact that Brian was including HIM in such an important decision meant more to him than he could say. "Well, I'll do my best to look beyond any tacky wallpaper and look at the artistic possibilities, then," he answered in kind.

Brian glanced over at him long enough to nod and smile before turning his attention back to the road. _Justin understood_, he decided. He knew his lover was a very perceptive and intelligent man. He had to know this was a huge step for him. Not so much because he was moving out of his loft - which had represented more of an independent, noncommittal lifestyle for him - but because he was taking a monumental step to include not only his son more in his life, but Justin as well. There would be no turning back now; not if he went through with his intention. And he was planning on it. Before the day was through, he was hoping he would find the house that would represent his - and his son's and Justin's - future.

* * *

><p><em>Four Hours Later...<em>

Justin shook his head. He was beginning to equate Brian with a reincarnation of Goldilocks. So far, the real estate agent - a tall, gregarious, loud talking but well-intentioned, platinum blonde who was one of the top agents in town - had squired them around to eight different houses in various, well-established parts of the city's suburbs, and Brian had found fault with all of them. Some were too small, some were too close to the other neighbors, some had backyards that would be difficult to mow due to their terrain, some did not have proper, top-of-the-line appliances, or - the one that made Justin blush profusely - one did not have a large enough shower to hold more than one person. He felt his face warm as he remembered the agent peering over at him with an amused look on her face after Brian had mentioned that. Brian had just shrugged at the time, explaining that he also would like a hot tub on the back porch. That statement probably did not need any further explanation, either, but Justin could have sworn Brian flashed a brief smirk at him before he plastered his 'game face' back on and turned his attention back to the real estate agent, who nodded before telling him they would continue looking.

Gus, on the other hand, was having a blast viewing the different properties, and had found several sandboxes, slides, swing sets, and other playground equipment to enjoy, in addition to hunting for salamanders in a creek that had abutted one of the properties' rear yards. He was having a ball, and didn't seem to care WHICH house they chose, as long as he could get outside and do some exploring to work off some of his ever-present, excess energy. It had taken all of Brian's forcefulness as a parent to keep his son from trying out a built-in swimming pool they had viewed and a trampoline. Despite his son's profound disappointment, he had stuck to his guns and had told him, instead, that he would make sure both those items were included in the new home that they chose. That, at least, seemed to temporarily appease him.

Now, as they stood next to Justin's car after yet another reject, the woman turned to her client to admit, "I'm running out of options, Mr. Kinney. At least here in the city proper."

Brian frowned. "City proper?"

She nodded. "Based on your preferences, this is the last possibility I have found for you. The only option at this point would be to either lower your expectations somewhat...or perhaps consider a home a little farther away."

"How farther away?" Brian inquired. Now that he had finally decided to find the proper home for his beloved Sonny Boy, he wasn't about to lower his standards.

"Well...I do have some other listings that are all within a 30-minute drive. But some are outside the city limits. And one that I think you might possibly be interested in isn't even in the state."

Brian kept a close glance on his son, who was presently hopping up and down from the sidewalk curb to the street, as he frowned back at her in confusion. "Not even in the state? How could I commute to work like that?"

She smiled. "I mean West Virginia. This listing is within your time parameters - it's only about 25 minutes away, give or take a few minutes."

Brian grimaced; thinking of West Virginia - right or wrong - as decidedly way too...provincial. "I don't know about that one...but I am not against looking at some other properties that are a little farther out, as long as they are a reasonable commuting time away." He was willing to put up with the additional aggravation of driving into and out of town, as long as he could find the perfect place for his son - and it allowed him and Justin some 'perks,' too. For a moment, he stopped to marvel at how he had even gotten to this point. Not so long ago, he would have been quite content to stay exactly where he was at the loft. Well, perhaps that wasn't exactly true. He knew how his son longed for a place with a proper backyard to play in. But until Justin had come along, he would have never thought about thinking of sharing his residence with a lover, a partner. He peered over then at the man in question, watching as Justin mimicked his son's actions, hopping up and down on one foot and then the other from the sidewalk to the street, both of them giggling in reaction, and his heart skipped a beat. He smiled. "Sonny Boy!" he called over to his son. "You, too, little kid!" he teased Justin, who stuck his tongue out at him. "We have some more to see; let's go!"

Gus grabbed Justin's hand and skipped merrily over to the car in glee; he was having so much fun exploring each location. "Yay!" he exclaimed as he rushed over, promptly opened up the back car door, and hopped in, wasting no time sitting on the booster seat.

Brian laughed. "I think that's a new record for getting into a car, even for him. I just needed the right enticement, I guess." He grinned at Justin as he held his hand out toward the real estate agent to indicate he was ready; she had graciously offered to sit in the back with his son. Glancing down at her phone, she nodded. "The next one's about ten minutes from here," she indicated as she opened the rear passenger door and slid inside. "It has a lot of the amenities you are looking for," she told Brian, who opened the driver's side door and slid behind the wheel, Justin soon joining him in the front.

Brian nodded. "Let's go check it out, then." He hadn't realized until today how tiring it could be, merely going house hunting. But when he made up his mind to do something, there was no stopping him, and he was determined before the day was through he WOULD find his two boys a proper house. _No, scratch that_, he decided, _a proper_ _HOME_.

* * *

><p><em>Late Afternoon...<em>

Brian glanced in the rearview mirror after realizing his normally rambunctious son had been silent for the past few minutes. Just as he had suspected, his child had finally succumbed to the day's events, and was now fast asleep. He smiled fondly at him. The car always did have a soothing effect on his child eventually, but it still took quite a bit before Gus would let sleep overtake him. He apparently wasn't the only one who was getting weary of looking at umpteenth possibilities, and not finding the one he wanted. Perhaps he was being too much of a perfectionist; but this would be his first home - _their _first home - and he wanted it to be the right one. He wasn't sure he bought into the idea that when he saw the perfect house, he would know it. But so far none of them had felt right to him.

"How many are left?" he called out softly to the woman who had patiently been leading them through the various back roads of greater Pittsburgh as they drove away from yet another reject.

She sighed. "That is all I have here in the suburban area," she conceded. "With the exception of the one I mentioned earlier that's in West Virginia."

Brian brushed his left hand through his hair as he peered over at Justin. His lover had been uncharacteristically subdued during most of the house inspections, when he would normally be very outspoken about his likes and dislikes. It was important to him that Justin feel comfortable with his choice as well. "What do you think?" he asked unexpectedly. "Should we go look at it?"

Justin stared over at him in undisguised surprise. HE wasn't going to be paying for a house; hell, he could barely sustain himself on what he had, even WITH the grant. But as Brian peered over at him with a serious expression on his face, he realized that he truly wanted his opinion. It made him feel both honored as well as humbled. "Well...we're already out driving around...and she said it wasn't that far away..."

Sheila Perkins, the real estate agent, nodded. "From here it would only be about twenty minutes," she verified, keeping her voice low so she did not disturb her slumbering co-passenger in the backseat. "It's an amazing home," she told them with a smile. "Well worth the tour, even if you decide you're not interested."

Well, that intrigued Brian sufficiently enough that he made his decision; that, and Justin's comments regarding it. "Okay...give me the directions."

* * *

><p>True to her word, about twenty minutes later, the real estate agent directed Brian to turn right from the main road, onto a narrower, private, paved road; only the 'For Sale' sign stuck at the corner - and a sign post announcing they were turning onto a street by the name of Broderick Avenue - gave any indication as to their whereabouts. The houses on this road - a no-outlet street as indicated by the sign at the beginning of it - were spaced quite a ways apart from each other, and the land was gently rolling and heavily wooded. Many of the homes they passed were fully hidden from the street, providing little clue as to the home they would be inspecting.<p>

"What sort of home is this?" Brian finally asked as she advised him it would be at the very end of the street.

She smiled. "It's a Tudor with an interesting history. It was built back in the 1880's, and is on the National Register of Historic Places. It started out as a grand, private residence, but when the owner died in the 1930's it was willed to the local Jesuit priests, who used it as a seminary until they fell into some financial difficulty, and decided to liquidate it." She glanced down at some papers in her hand as she added, "It's been on the market for over a year now, so I think the buyers would be quite receptive to an offer."

Brian exchanged a look with Justin before addressing the real estate agent. "You said it used to be a seminary for priests? How large IS this place?" He couldn't help thinking how ironic it would be to wind up living in such a place; what a big 'fuck you' it would be to his mother!

"It's not as large as it might sound," Sheila assured him. "Don't get me wrong; it's quite impressive. But at its peak, it only housed a small group of priests; perhaps a dozen or so. However, they also used it for periodic retreats as well as for visitors on the weekends." She sighed wistfully, as if she were being deprived of something special that was out of her grasp, which - considering the price - probably was. "The grounds are just magnificent." She peered over at her client's little boy and added, "Your little boy would love it." She leaned toward the front seat as she instructed Brian, "over there...on the right where the iron gate is, next to the bushes."

Brian nodded as he slowed down, and as he turned into the open driveway and steered the car past a patch of bushes, he and Justin were able to obtain their first glimpse of the house. He heard Justin gasp as his own eyes widened in astonishment. This was no mere 'house' where an overactive boy could work off some excess energy; this was a fucking mansion. The semi-circular drive provided an unobstructed view of the Tudor home. Its setting at the top of a sloping hill was the perfect vista to show off its 'bones,' and it was impressive indeed. An attached, matching garage to the right of the home indicated room for three vehicles, and what appeared to be grove of apple trees shaded the entire right side. Large, mature, hardwood trees were sprinkled throughout the property, and the grounds were immaculately manicured. It was an artist's painting come to life, and Justin, especially, was overwhelmed.

"Oh, my God, it's...it's stunning," he murmured in appreciation. "Brian..."

Brian smiled at his reaction as Sheila commented from the back, "If you think the outside is amazing, wait until you see the inside - and the rear yard. It's a little boy's dream playground - and a big boys', too," she informed them. "Has pretty much every amenity you could think of, inside and outside. The priests - shall we say - were quite intent on nothing but the best quality for their residence."

Brian was only half-listening as he pulled up to the main entrance of the home and turned his head to gape at the home's grandeur. This was out in the boonies in West Virginia? He would have never envisioned something like this out in a rural setting. But it was by and far the most impressive home they had encountered today.

As he stopped the car and turned off the motor, as if by magic his sleepy son began to awaken; Gus rubbed his eyes and blinked before looking around. "Where are we, Daddy?"

Brian smiled as he unlatched his seatbelt. "We're checking out another house, Gus. A BIG house. Want to go look?"

Now wide awake, his son vigorously nodded his head and smiled as the real estate agent reached over to help unbuckle him. Brian barely had a chance to open his own door and then Gus's before his child bounded from the vehicle, looking around like he was a kid in a huge candy store. "Is this going to be our house?" he asked in wonder as Justin and Sheila joined them in front of the entrance doors.

"Don't know, Sonny Boy," he told his child honestly. He couldn't envision them living in such an obscenely huge home, but it was definitely an incredible residence - at least as indicated from the outside. He could not dispute that. "But we're going to go take a look," he told him with a smile, placing his hand on his son's shoulder as Sheila led the three of them up to the door and entered the code to open the lockbox and remove the entrance key.

"Here we go," she said, as she unlocked the door and turned the handle to open it. "Come on in, and be prepared to be impressed," she told them with a knowing smile.

As the three of them entered ahead of her, she grinned as they walked into the foyer. She had noticed that same expression before on other potential buyers she had escorted through here. It couldn't be helped. The house was exquisite. Hardwood floors, brick fireplaces, tall, imposing ceilings, and masterfully crafted woodwork, from the trim around the doorways to the curving bannister of the staircase leading to the upstairs. And with only minimal furnishings left in the residence, the inside looked positively monstrous in size. It wasn't for everyone; it would take a very discerning buyer to approve of such ostentatiousness. But Sheila Perkins hadn't become Pittsburgh's _Realtor of the Year _by happenstance; she had a good instinct for potential buyers, and as she looked at the expressions of wonder on all three faces, something told her she may have just hit pay dirt. "Come and see the kitchen," she invited them, remembering how Mr. Kinney had commented on how much Justin, his companion, loved to cook. While he hadn't come right out and proclaimed him as his lover/boyfriend, it was written all over the man's face every time he gazed over at him, so she realized it was important to him that any potential home also include what Mr. Taylor liked as well. And if he were a true cook, he was going to fall in love with the kitchen.

Sure enough, as she led them down the long hallway to the kitchen located near the rear of the house, she heard the younger man gasp beside her as they approached what could only be described as a gourmet's dream. The kitchen held all chrome, top-of-the-line, professional appliances, from the built-in refrigerator to the six-burner stove to the granite kitchen island, complete with its own, separate sink and a stainless steel pot carrousel hanging directly overhead. A medium-sized kitchen alcove with floor-to-ceiling windows located to the side of the cooking area was large enough to comfortably accommodate a dining table, and provided an incredible view of the rolling, heavily wooded backyard.

"All the appliances are less than five years old," she told them as she watched Justin slowly trail his fingers across the marble island in awe. "And there's a very spacious pantry over there," she advised them. "It has mechanized vertical shelves that slide out for easy access to anything stored in there, along with a separate area for cleaning supplies." She cocked her head toward a set of two, French doors. "Those doors lead to the outside patio," she told them. "But I think you might want to see the upstairs first. It will take some time to tour all of the ground's amenities. This way?" she asked, as the two men followed her back down the hallway, an excited Gus rushing full steam ahead.

"Gus, wait up, Sonny Boy!" Brian quietly demanded as his son reached the steps. Jiggling impatiently up and down, Gus nevertheless held his ground until his father and Justin walked over to him. Brian reached to grab his hand as he instructed him to hold onto the bannister with his other one, Justin and the agent following along behind them.

"I would head to the right," Sheila told him as they ascended the stiarcase. "That's where the guest bedrooms are located." After reaching the second floor, the four of them walked down a polished, hardwood floor with an antique runner in the middle, stopping at the first of six bedrooms - three on either side. Each bedroom had its own, separate bathroom, and were bathed in copious amounts of light that entered through not only the tall windows, but also a pair of skylights that had been installed within the past few years in each bedroom to let in more light for morning prayers and reflection.

"Wow," Brian murmured as they entered the last of the bedrooms. This one had bookshelves gracing every wall of the room, each one full of hardbound books of every type, size, and color. It was enough to fill up a respectable-sized library. "These books come with the house?" He watched as Justin walked over to examine some of them, pulling out one that seemed to appeal to him. He noticed a radiant smile of pleasure break out on his lover's face as Justin exclaimed, "This is an art book about expressionism, Brian!" Brian smiled back at him as Justin began to slowly leaf through the heavy tome, stopping to gingerly, almost reverently, lift the onion skin paper that protected each print within the book. "This is amazing," he murmured, before turning to reluctantly put it back on the shelf. Brian knew a lot of thought would have to go into any decision to purchase this particular house, but at that moment he couldn't help thinking that any price would be worth it if he could see that type of smile from Justin on a frequent basis.

"You're right," Brian decided as he turned to look at the agent, keeping a watchful eye on his son, who was skipping around the spacious room. "This house is_..._indescribable." He turned slowly around to try and absorb all the intricate details.

"Wait until you see the master bedroom on the other end, and the attached office," she told him with a smile as she turned to lead them back out of the room.

A minute later, she swung the partly ajar door to the master bedroom open and stood to the side. "Take a look," she urged them. She watched as the two men entered the room with the little boy and stopped dead in their tracks. This room was at least twice the size of the other bedrooms, containing a sleeping area with an adjoining sitting area that was nestled in a private alcove off to the side. It, too, faced out onto the rear grounds of the property, but had a set of double, French doors that led to a room-sized, covered balcony just perfect for morning coffee and conversation.

To the left was a 10' X 12' walk-in closet with ample storage space that led to the adjoining master bathroom, constructed of Italian marble. It held both a spacious, glass-enclosed, rainforest shower, and a corner, garden bathtub. Brian and Justin stood in the bathroom, both mouths hanging open at the opulence of it all. "I...I've never seen anything like this," Brian admitted at last. "This makes my bathroom back at the loft look like a broom closet."

Justin shook his head in amazement. "Brian, this bathroom is twice as large as my dorm room! Why would anyone - especially priests - need a bathroom like this?"

Brian smirked as he walked up behind Justin and slid his arms around him, both of them facing the large mirror that hung over the double vanity. "Maybe they weren't quite as celibate as they appeared," he told his lover as he nipped at his ear. He heard Justin sigh in pleasure as he nuzzled his cheek. "You - in this bathroom - are making me very, very horny at the moment," he admitted. He didn't actually have to say anything, though; Brian's cock resting against his backside told Justin all he needed to know.

He turned around in Brian's arms as his lover curled his lips under in that 'little boy look' of his. He knew where Gus got his charm from, he decided, as he smacked him on the chest. "Brian, the real estate agent is right in the next room, and so is your son. There is NO way I am 'indulging you;' not now, anyway."

Brian grinned. "Well, at least you said 'not now.' He turned Justin around again to hold him against his chest as he faced the Jacuzzi. "I'm having all sorts of lewd thoughts about that," he told him huskily as Justin's face warmed. He wasn't the _only_ one having such ideas. "I was never much into bathtubs...but I think with the right person, I could change my mind. Ever done it in a bathtub, Justin?"

His question was met with a soft groan. "Brian...God...stop it!" he scolded him as he broke apart from his embrace, his cock beginning to stir with interest. He rolled his eyes, mortified. "Thanks a lot; now I'm going to have to think about something distasteful to make my hard-on go down."

"Think about Marcum; that should do it."

"Thanks," Justin replied dryly as he shook his head in mock irritation. There was no way he could stay mad at this man, however, not with that impish look on his face.

"Mr. Kinney? Mr. Taylor? Ready to go see the outside now? Your son's going to love it!"

Justin groaned again, but this time for a different reason, as Brian called out, "We'd like a few more minutes to check out the master living area," he told her through the open doorway. Could you go ahead and take Gus outside? We'll follow you out shortly."

"Sure thing," she called back, wondering if that was all there was to it. But she had long ago learned to be discreet as a real estate agent. Turning to the fidgeting child nearby, she asked him, "Would you like to see the outside, Gus?" The little boy nodded with a smile as she held her hand out. He hesitated briefly before placing his hand in hers and following her out the door.

"Hurry up, Daddy!" he managed to call out as they headed toward the steps.

"We'll be right there, Sonny Boy!" Brian replied. Hearing Sheila and his son bounding down the steps, he turned to Justin with a smirk. "Now...about that not-so-little problem you have..."

Justin grinned back at him. "I like the way you think," he responded with a smile, as he sunk to his knees on the plush carpeting and began to unbutton Brian's jeans, deciding he would take care of Brian's 'problem' first.

* * *

><p>"Daddy! Justin!" Gus shouted out as the two men emerged into the backyard a few minutes later. "Look at me!" Gus was presently hanging upside down from a large, low-lying branch of an oak tree, his brown hair hanging freely under him as he swung slightly back and forth. "I'm Tarzan!"<p>

Sheila stared over at him in apprehension, trying to figure out the best way to dislodge the human monkey without him falling out of the tree and onto his head. She had turned her back for only a few seconds as they had neared the tree, only to turn around just now to observe Gus hanging in his somewhat precarious position. "Uh...Gus..."

"Shit," Brian muttered under his breath. "I swear, he's trying to fucking kill me." Raising his voice, he called over to his son, "Hold on, Tarzan. Stop swinging on your vine! I'm coming!" He reached his son in record time as Justin followed quickly behind him, reaching to pull his giggling son into his arms and holding him tightly in a hug before slowly lowering him to the ground. "Sonny Boy..." His shook his head in exasperation as Gus peered up at him and grinned, causing him to half-smile back at him in return. "What am I going to do with you?" he lamented.

It was only after his son was safely back on terra firma that he finally took a moment to look around the grounds, and once more he was floored by what he saw: acres and acres of well-manicured lawn, generously interspersed with mature trees and flowering bushes of every kind and variety, even what appeared to be a mini-vineyard over to the left near a large, wooden structure. "What's that?" he asked curiously.

Sheila smiled. "That's the original stables. Made from beams of oak flooring. That structure is more secure than a lot of the new buildings being constructed today. It would hold up to six horses if you decide to use it." She pointed over to the side of the covered patio. "And there's the built-in pool," she told them. "It has thermal, solar panels that keep the water at a steady 85 degrees year-round. There are also numerous walking trails around the property, and even a picnic shelter back there," she told them, pointing toward a grove of trees a couple hundred yards away. "And a fishing lake, too. The priests believed in the spirit of fellowship and communion, but also areas of reflection. That's why the property is so serene." She sighed wistfully. "I would die for this type of property. This sort of home only comes on the market once in a lifetime. But it needs the right owner, who will appreciate its history and beauty." She peered into Brian's eyes meaningfully. Yes, it was an insanely large home for such a small 'family;' but there was something about them that told her she wasn't misreading their interest. Could she be wrong, though?

Brian looked down into his son's face; Gus was presently sitting cross-legged on the ground, swishing a stick he had found in the dirt and making a primitive drawing of...a house? Was it _this _house? He watched as his son drew a stick figure, then another one and yet a third, a smaller one. "What are you drawing, Sonny Boy?"

As if he had read his mind, Gus peered up and explained, "I'm drawing this house, Daddy. And you and Justin and me."

Brian glanced over at Justin, who had been silent up until now. "Justin?" he asked softly. He turned to look at the real estate agent. "Would you mind if we talked in private?"

She nodded with a smile. "Not at all. I'll just go return some calls. I'll be in the kitchen if you need me." Brian nodded his thanks as she turned around and headed back toward the house.

"Justin, what do you think?" he asked as soon as she had slid the doors shut and disappeared.

Justin peered back at him, unsure _what_ he thought. He looked around the outside, and then the house itself as he replied, "Brian, it's...it's fucking amazing. I mean, it's anyone's dream house. But it's so big! It's like a _hotel_! What would you..._we _need with so much room? Can you imagine how much this would cost to even heat?"

"Well, she told me it's got a geothermal heating system, so the cost is more reasonable than you might think. And I can close off some of the rooms that aren't being used to save some additional money."

Justin stared at him in disbelief. "You're actually thinking of buying this...this _palace_?"

Brian grinned. "That's a good name for it," he admitted, as he looked down at his son, who was now drawing what appeared to be a horse; no, TWO horses. Either that, or - heaven forbid - a couple of dogs. He shuddered; he wasn't sure he was ready for either, but if it made his child happy, well, perhaps it was time to give it some thought. "You know, I used to ride horses when I was little," he revealed.

Justin smiled. "You did?"

Gus peered up at his father curiously as Brian nodded. "Yeah...and it was a lot of fun, too. Rode them at summer camp." The smile of remembrance on his face slowly disappeared as he added, "My parents always sent me to camp each summer...it was a good way for me to stay out of their hair. But I still enjoyed it, anyway." His eyes glistened as he walked over to Justin and took him in his arms. "Justin, I don't want to be that kind of parent to Gus. I want to be a REAL parent. And this place...this place feels right to me. I know it's crazy..."

"No," was the instant reply as Justin placed his hands on either side of Brian's face. "What's crazy is thinking you could ever be a bad father, Brian. You are a _wonderful_ father to Gus. And he would adore you and love you whether you lived in a loft, a mansion...or a shack. It doesn't matter to him. What matters to him is that you love him fully and unconditionally. He knows that; he will _always_ know that, no matter what. It's not _where _you live; it's HOW you live. And you couldn't be a better parent or role model to him."

Brian swallowed hard as he nodded. "Thanks," he whispered sincerely as he smiled back at him. He paused before softly adding, "I still want to know what you think, Justin. IS it crazy to even consider it?"

"What would you do with the loft? Would you sell it?"

"I'm not sure. Financially I could maintain both. I might do that, at least for a while. It might come in handy, even, for occasional, out-of-town clients who need a place to stay. Or if there's inclement weather, like a snowstorm, it would certainly be easier to stay there rather than trying to head back out here."

Justin nodded as he absorbed that information. He knew Brian was well-off, but to be able to comfortably afford to maintain _both_ residences, he must be quite affluent. Not that it mattered; just like with Gus, he wouldn't care WHERE Brian lived - as long as they were together.

"Justin? I think you could be happy here; WE could be happy here. What do you say?"

"Brian, it's an amazing place! _Anyone _would be happy here. Not to mention I'm sure it would give me all kinds of inspiration to paint."

"I thought _I _was your inspiration."

Justin grinned. "You are, believe me. And Gus," he added, as he smiled down at the little boy; Gus smiled up at him in return. He turned back to look at Brian. "But I'm not thinking of buying the house, YOU are. You know I could never afford to help pay for this; at least, not for a very, very long time."

Brian huffed in annoyance. "Justin, have you even been listening to me? I don't _expect_ you to! But I DO want you to move in with me, whether it's here or at the loft, or some other place. But I really think we could make this work. And I know Gus would love it." He looked around the backyard, imagining all sorts of things he could place there to make his son happy; to make 'both' his boys happy. "I think I'll start with a big barbeque grill and an outdoor fridge - right next to the pool. But if the pool's heated year-round, I don't think we'll need the hot tub. And we'll need one of those wooden play sets for Gus; maybe then he'll stop acting like he's Tarzan. We can put some of that rubber shit underneath in case he falls, so he won't get hurt, too. I think we're going to need it." Gus stared up at his father at the sound of his name and the sound of the words 'play set.' He wondered exactly what that was. Somehow he knew it would be a good thing, though; his daddy always thought of good things for him.

Justin laughed. "It sounds like you've already bought it, Brian."

Brian gazed tenderly into his lover's eyes. "Yeah, I guess I have, at least in my mind. So...?"

Justin slid his hands down to rest on Brian's shoulders. "So I say you go for it."

"No, Justin," Brian gently admonished him as Justin frowned. "WE go for it." Justin smiled and nodded as Brian leaned down to kiss him briefly on the lips. Turning his head to gaze down at his child, he let go of Justin and gently pulled his son to his feet. "Come on, Sonny Boy," he urged him as he grasped Gus's hand in his, and his son automatically reached for Justin's hand to stand between them. "We've got a house to buy."


	20. Two Momentous Days

_Justin begins working at Kinnetik, making some tongues wag. Moving day arrives for the boys. _

_Monday Morning...7:00 a.m._

The persistent bleating of his chrome alarm clock awakened Brian from his dream state; groaning in protest over the noise, he reached over blindly with his right hand to bat at the instrument to silence it. He let out a large sigh as he lay on his back, his eyes slowly fluttering open as he turned his head to verify that it, was, indeed, time to rise and get ready for another new day at Kinnetik.

He normally was quite consistent in his morning routine during the work week: rise at seven - just as the coffeemaker's automatic setting turns on - take a piss in the bathroom, spend 15 minutes or so taking a shower as he scrubs his body and washes his hair, shave his stubble off and blow dry his hair into a perfect, casual look, walk back into the bedroom to search for the coordinated suit, tie, and shirt he had so carefully hung together the night before, and then finally finish his routine off with a couple cups of coffee in the kitchen and possibly a piece of wheat toast with a little honey and some sort of organic juice. For the past several years, that had been his regular, morning ritual, and for the most part he had adhered to it without fail.

Except _this_ morning was going to be different - and subsequent mornings would never be the same, either. All because of the soft, warm body currently pressed to his side. The body that belonged to a man who was quickly capturing his heart...if he hadn't already. He turned his head to the other side and smiled as he came nose-to-nose with Justin's face. Some strands of hair had fallen into his eyes as he slept on his side facing Brian, one hand curled around his torso, his head lying partly on his pillow and partly on Brian's chest as he slumbered, oblivious to Brian's careful inspection.

Brian initially thought he might be scared shitless at the thought of committing so deeply to one man that was not only in his life on a regular basis now, but in his bed as well. Hell, he had even gone and bought a damn _house..._partly due to his son, yes. But also due to the beautiful creature presently sleeping beside him. _How in the hell did it come to this?_ He marveled. But he found that it didn't scare him at all; rather, it filled him with exhilaration. And not just because he had a sexual partner available now on a ready basis, night or day, that was his equal in every way in both stamina as well as passion. No, there was more to it than that; something much deeper. Something within his heart that caused it to thump madly whenever they kissed or made love (yes, damn it, that was what it was now), or to skip a beat when Justin gave him a certain look. Or even now - even when his lover didn't even know he was looking at him - when his heart sped up and threatened to overflow with emotion.

He gazed at him regretfully then, knowing time was relentlessly marching on, and he needed to arise to start his day; _their_ day. He reached over to gently push some hair back from his companion's forehead. "Justin..." he called softly. But there was no response, save the ever-present, regular rise and fall of his lover's chest, and the soft pants coming from his partly-open lips. He tried again, a little louder this time. "Rise and shine, Picasso! First day at work, remember?" He shook his head in amusement when all he received was a small murmur in reply - before Justin snuggled his body deeper into Brian's, and he resettled his head back on his chest. He let out what sounded like a contented sigh before moving his leg slightly to entwine it in between Brian's longer ones.

Brian sucked in a breath as their two bare cocks brushed against each other; sometime during the night, the light sheet they had been sleeping under had been pushed aside to Justin's side of the bed. It was a mere, brief contact as Justin repositioned himself, but it made Brian's body flare up with desire. "Well, you asked for it, Picasso," he warned him softly as he pushed Justin's body by the shoulder enough to make him lie flat on his back, and twisted his own body to drape it fully over the smaller one. "I guess this calls for drastic wake-up measures." He could see Justin stirring slightly more under him as he grasped him by the shoulders and leaned down to brush his lips across his; as he pulled back slightly, he noticed a smile slowly appearing on his lover's face.

"This is the best dream I've ever had," Justin murmured, his eyes still closed. Soon, however, the smile grew wider as Brian snorted in reaction, and a set of brilliant, blue eyes opened slowly to peer impishly up at him.

"Oh, it wasn't a dream?" Justin replied coyly. His smile grew to full wattage now as he stared up into Brian's incredible face. _How did he get so damned lucky?_ He wondered. "I'm glad you're here in the flesh, instead," he clarified, as he stretched his hands above his head, gasping as his movement caused his cock to brush against Brian's skin again. His eyes grew wide and darkened as Brian's breath hitched at the contact.

"Fuck, what you do to me," Brian murmured as the two men stared at each other for a few moments before Brian leaned down to kiss his lover again, more deeply this time. Their desire rose to new levels then as their bodies wriggled against each other's, and before long Brian's heretofore, regimented schedule was promptly shot to hell.

* * *

><p><em>8:30 a.m. - Kinnetik's Offices<em>

Cynthia looked up in shock as Brian walked up to her desk; she had been so busy getting prepared for another busy work week at Kinnetik and checking the client schedule for the coming days that she hadn't had a chance yet to check in with her friend and boss. She had just naturally assumed that, like every other day, Brian was already hard at work with his own duties in his private suite. She had _never_ seen him come in this late before - or with another man in tow behind him.

"Cynthia, this is Justin," Brian introduced the younger, blond-haired man to her. "Justin Taylor. He's our new art intern from PIFA." The no-nonsense look on Brian's face told Cynthia silently that there was to be no out-of-the-ordinary questions about this rather unorthodox method of introducing Kinnetik's newest employee, but the fact that Brian himself was introducing him was shocking enough. She tamped down her extreme curiosity as she rose to her feet and extended her hand with a smile. "Nice to meet you, Justin," she told him. "I'm Cynthia Stephens, Brian's executive assistant. Welcome to Kinnetik."

Justin's handshake was firm and confident as he nodded back at her and replied politely, "Nice to meet you, Ms. Stephens. Thank you; I'm very happy to be here."

She nodded back at him. "You'll need to go meet with HR to sign new hire papers, and underdo an orientation," she told him, noticing Brian still lingering nearby. That was _also _unusual; normally, Brian didn't want anything to do with new employees, especially interns. Not unless they royally fucked something up; then he was quick to get rid of them if they didn't live up to his high standards. "I can show you the way." She peered over at Brian for confirmation, who nodded in agreement. _Yes, this one was special somehow,_ she decided. Everything so far about _this_ new hire was totally, diametrically opposite to what normally occurred. She cleared her throat. "Well, then...if you'll come with me, we'll get you started."

Justin nodded, glancing over at his lover for a moment. He saw just the hint of an encouraging smile on his face, followed by a wink, before he turned and headed after Brian's assistant down the hallway, already missing his lover's presence, but excited about starting his new position. He risked one, last look at his lover, finding him still standing where he had left him, and flashed him a smile before turning to follow Cynthia to the HR Department.

* * *

><p><em>1:30 p.m. - Kinnetik<em>

Justin was startled when his phone rang on his desk; he had been sitting there since 9:30 that morning, and it was the first time it had rung. The Art Department Manager - a man about the same age as Brian by the name of Will Klosterman - had put him to work on one of the company's ad campaigns, using rough draft prototypes to reconstruct them on full-sized drawing paper. They would need to be approved by Klosterman before they could be colored in and recreated as the ad prototypes that would be used for the campaign itself. But Justin was enjoying being able to use his imagination and creative skills to flesh out the initial ideas, and it seemed to be going well. Klosterman had walked over a couple of times to check out his progress so far, and he had seemed pleased, if not surprised, by his accomplishments.

He reached over from where he was sitting in front of a drawing board to pick the phone up, pressing the blinking button as HR had instructed him earlier. "Uh...Kinnetik, Justin Taylor speaking."

"Taylor."

Justin promptly blushed as he turned his head away from the other artists nearby so they wouldn't see how red his face was; how did Brian manage to have such an effect on him? He silently berated himself, feeling like some giddy schoolgirl as he fought for control. "Yes..._Mr. Kinney_," he responded, emphasizing Brian's title and name.

Brian smiled on the other end of the phone, trying hard not to let it reflect in his voice. "Taylor, I need for you to bring me something."

Justin's pulse quickened. "Yes, Sir. Of course. What do you need?" he asked.

Brian paused for a moment before he answered succinctly, "You. Now. In my office."

_Shit_. That didn't help his situation at all. Now, not only was his face flushed, but his cock was beginning to awaken as well. _Think of Marcum, think of Marcum_...was the mantra that kept going through his head. Anything...anything but the sexy man in his office down the hall. "Uh...Yes, Sir. I'll...I'll be right there," he finally managed to say.

"See that you are. I don't like to be kept waiting."

Justin hung up the phone and, praying that his current predicament wouldn't be broadcast to everyone nearby, he rolled back from his drawing board and went in search of his boss.

"Justin...I was just coming to get you," Will told him as the blond appeared in his office door. "Brian's assistant just called; says he needs to see you about something right away." His curiosity was apparent on his face as he stared at the young student who had just started today. He was well-groomed, polite, and - from what he could tell so far, very talented - but why Brian would want to see HIM was a mystery, as well as highly unorthodox. Normally, Brian preferred to handle graphic design matters with him directly, viewing him as ultimately responsible for whatever his art employees devised. But for whatever reason, Brian wanted to see this intern personally. "Better not keep him waiting," Will instructed him, as he noticed Justin remaining standing where he was. "Oh, and take your lunch hour after you're done speaking with him; you were due to go now, anyway."

Justin nodded. "Right. Thanks," he replied, as he turned and headed down the hallway. Thankfully, he had noticed a polished, gold, brass plate on a door near Cynthia's desk that had Brian's name and title written on it when he and Brian had arrived earlier; otherwise, he would have had no idea where Brian's suite was.

As he approached Cynthia's desk, he could feel her gaze on him as he neared. Sure enough, before he could even speak, she told him, "Justin. Good. I'll let Brian know you're here." She picked up her phone, and waited a few seconds for her boss to pick up before she relayed the information. Hanging up a few seconds later, she nodded. "He's expecting you. His office is right over there. Just knock before you enter."

Justin nodded, his heart pounding as he turned and headed toward Brian's office. He noticed a few employees eyeing him as he walked past their cubicles, but he kept his gaze straight ahead, deciding he didn't want to stir up the office gossip pot any further than it probably already was. Taking a deep breath, he raised his left hand and rapped a couple of times. After a few seconds, he heard the distinctive sound of his lover's voice. "Enter," was all he said.

Justin couldn't help rolling his eyes a little as he turned the brushed, steel handle of the glass-frosted door and opened it, thinking he felt like some slave back in Egyptian times being commanded to make his appearance in front of his master the King. He smiled at the thought as he opened the door, noticing Brian's back to him as he sat in a dark, leather desk chair. He could barely make out his familiar, auburn hair sticking over the top as he called out to him. "Brian? You needed to see me?"

_Did he ever_. Brian smirked. "You could say that. Come here, Mr. Taylor. And shut the door. After you lock it."

Justin's eyes widened at the commanding tone of Brian's voice. Swallowing hard, he did as Brian asked, turning to close and lock the door behind him before turning back around to walk toward Brian's massive, contemporary desk. He took a moment to survey his surroundings. It was unlike any executive office he could have imagined. There was nothing stark or wood-grained in THIS environment. It was all glass, chrome, and curves, almost gritty in feeling. He decided that it fit his lover; he liked it. As he walked closer to Brian's desk, suddenly his chair swung back around to face him, and their eyes instantly locked on each other. He noticed Brian's eyes soften at the first sign of his appearance, before one side of his mouth quirked up in amusement.

Justin stopped a few feet away from him as he asked, "So how's your first day going, Mr. Taylor?"

Justin frowned slightly; that sounded pretty impersonal to him. "Uh...fine. Just fine. Everyone seems very dedicated to their job, and they've all been very welcoming to me. Will...uh, Mr. Klosterman, already has me working on some of the display boards for Turner Opticians."

Brian's eyebrow rose; that WAS impressive. Klosterman was normally a hard sell when it came to approving a new employee's work; to have Justin already working independently on some display boards for one of their larger clients was unprecedented. But he couldn't say that totally surprised him. "Is that so?"

Justin nodded, still wondering where this line of conversation was heading. "Is something wrong, Brian?" He finally ventured to ask, hoping his lover wasn't beginning to regret the massive favor he had done for him.

"You could say that," Brian murmured, his eyes fixated on Justin and making him squirm slightly.

"Oh? You're not happy with my work?"

"No...au contraire," he corrected him. "While I haven't seen what you've been working on personally, Klosterman says you're doing quite well for your first day. He didn't tell me he had you working on Turner Opticians, though; that is quite a feat for a new intern."

Justin thought he heard a touch of pride in Brian's voice then, which alleviated his concerns somewhat. But... "Then what is it?" he pressed.

Brian smirked. "The problem is...normally by now, I would have gotten a shitload of work done on Monday morning." He paused briefly before explaining, "But today I seemed to have had my mind on..._other_ matters."

Justin's lips spread out into the beginnings of a knowing smile, hoping he was right about the 'problem' Brian was having. "_Other matters?" _

Brian nodded. "And now - _because_ of that 'other matter' - I now have _another_ problem that needs to be urgently addressed. One that only YOU can take care of. That is why I called you here." He crossed his arms across his chest and stared over at him in true, executive fashion.

Justin did smile now. "Really?"

Brian nodded as he turned sideways behind his desk so he could look at him closer. "Come here," he ordered softly.

Justin's heart thumped in his chest as he turned to walk around Brian's desk and face him from a few feet away. Brian's 'problem' became overtly obvious, then, as Justin's eyes raked down from his face to his chest...and then to his legs, a prominent bulge clearly straining from beneath the charcoal gray, linen dress pants.

"Oh, you DO have a problem," Justin clucked sympathetically as he walked closer and placed his hands on Brian's shoulders to lean over him. Their lips were inches from each other's as he assured him, "Well, I think I have just the solution to take care of that."

"I was hoping you would say that." Brian emitted what sounded like a growl before he grabbed Justin by the back of the neck and pulled his mouth down for a kiss that grew deeper within seconds; Justin had to straddle Brian's legs as he almost lost his balance, winding up gripping Brian's upper arms to steady himself as he perched in his lover's lap.

Brian moaned as Justin wiggled on top of his legs, causing him to break off the kiss. "Fuck, Justin!" he exclaimed breathlessly. "I had no idea this was going to be a side effect to your employment," he lamented as his lover giggled back at him.

"I prefer to call it a job benefit," he told him with a grin as they kissed again briefly. Staring into his lover's eyes, everything else faded away as Justin slid off his lap and kneeled in front of Brian, reaching over to slowly unbutton the lone button of Brian's pants and slide the zipper down to retrieve his prize. Curling his hands over Brian's waistband, Brian rose up just enough to allow Justin to pull his pants and his briefs down his body to spring his rock-hard dick free from its confines.

"Now...let me see if I can alleviate your discomfort just a bit," he murmured as he clamped both hands, palm down, on Brian's legs and took a tentative swipe of Brian's tip, hearing Brian suck in his breath above him. Further emboldened, he moved his right hand over to grip the base of Brian's cock before taking the end in his mouth and sucking firmly on it, reveling in the moan he produced from his lover.

_Holy shit_. Brian's body tingled from head to toe as Justin got to work in earnest then on his cock, his warm hand firmly gripping his shaft as his lips and tongue made him go crazy with desire. He was doing some sort of swirling motion with his tongue, up and down, his lips ghosting over the pulsing flesh as he took him deeper and deeper inside. He blindly reached over and finally latched onto a clump of Justin's soft hair, his other hand gripping the end of his desk for support as he felt his body quickly heading toward orgasm. All he could hear right then were his moans and quickened breaths of arousal, and the steady slurping sound of Justin's lips gliding up and down his cock until, finally, unable to bear it any longer, his face grimaced in almost unbearable ecstasy and his body erupted explosively, his chest heaving hard as he erupted down Justin's throat.

Gripping both chair arms now and his fingers white with exertion, he panted rapidly in and out as he felt Justin thoroughly swabbing his cock with his tongue to clean up every drop before his briefs and pants were slid back up his body and his cock was tucked back inside; he wasn't even aware if he had rose from his chair or not to help facilitate it, but before he knew it he was fully dressed again, and Justin was once more straddling his legs, an accomplished look on his face as he smiled over at him in satisfaction. "Will that be all for now..._Mr. Kinney?" _

Still coming down from his climactic high, Brian inhaled a deep breath and let it out before he could speak again. "Fuck. "You're the most talented intern I've ever employed," he decided as Justin laughed softly, pleased.

"Well, anytime you have this 'particular problem,' I expect to be on call," he told him. "The ONLY one on call...got it?"

Brian chuckled. "Pretty bossy for the new employee, aren't you?" he commented dryly. Justin grinned and nodded back at him. "Well, fortunately for you, I LIKE an intern that takes charge. So I guarantee that you will be the only one on call for that particular activity."

Justin nodded, leaning down to give Brian another kiss; it was obvious then that Brian wasn't the _only_ one with a 'problem.'

"I'm not the _only_ one who needs something handled," Brian huskily pointed out as he reached between them to squeeze Justin's cock through his pants, which was straining for release as well. Grasping Justin by the waist, he rose to his feet along with Justin, turning his lover and pushing him back down so he was the one now sitting in his chair.

"Brian...you don't have to..."

"Oh, but I do," Brian told him, his eyes boring into his. "Consider this your official welcome to Kinnetik." Unbuttoning Justin's slacks, he knelt down between his legs and proceeded to return the favor Justin had previously bestowed upon him.

* * *

><p>Fifteen minutes later, the door to Brian's private office swung open as Cynthia and Ted, who had arrived for an impending meeting with a client, turned their heads to peer over at the two men. Brian was holding the door open as Justin walked out. "That will be all for now, Taylor," Brian declared. "Keep up the good work."<p>

Justin tried hard to keep the blush off his face, but knew he was probably failing miserably. "Yes,  
>Sir," he replied with a nod, biting his lower lip to keep from smiling. After that blowjob Brian had just given him, he was feeling no pain. In fact, he was pretty, damn glorious. He wondered if Brian might need his 'help' on a daily basis. He fervently hoped so, although he hadn't the foggiest idea how he was going to make up an excuse to see him that regularly.<p>

As he passed Cynthia's desk, the woman spoke up. "Uh...Justin? This is Ted Schmidt, our head accountant. Ted, this is our new art intern from PIFA, Justin Taylor."

Ted studied the young, blond man intently as he and Justin shook hands, wondering what sort of 'business' he and Brian had just conducted - and behind closed doors, no less. He knew that Brian was particularly well-informed as the CEO of a very prosperous company, but to take an apparent personal interest in a new student intern was highly unusual. "Justin...nice to meet you."

"You, too, Mr. Schmidt," Justin responded politely.

Ted smiled. "It's just Ted," he assured him as Justin nodded.

"Well...I'd better get back to the Art Department," he told them as he turned to go. Something occurred to him as he turned back around. "Bri...Mr. Kinney told me I could go onto lunch after our meeting. But I don't think he's eaten, either. Should I pick him up something?" He refrained from suggesting Brian's normal lunchtime meal, not wanting to reveal just how well he knew him.

"That's very thoughtful of you, Justin," Cynthia interjected. "But he's about ready to go into a client meeting; I'll have something delivered to him; don't worry."

Justin nodded with a smile. "Okay, then. See you later." The two watched as the young blond turned and headed out the front door before speaking again.

"What do you make of _that_?" Ted murmured, his interest piqued. "Did you notice he started to call Brian by his first name, too? Doesn't that seem peculiar for someone who just started here as an intern?"

Cynthia remarked, "Not any odder than Brian meeting with him privately behind closed doors."

Ted smirked. "Yeah, I wonder what sort of 'business' they were conducting?"

"Ted..." Cynthia shushed him, looking around to make sure no one, including Brian, who was heading back inside his office, overheard them. "It could have been completely innocent, and strictly business. Besides, if this Justin _is_ an intern, how old could he be? Early twenties?"

Ted grinned. "Haven't you learned anything, Cyn? In the advertising world, it's all about the package, not the actual product. And this one seems to be wrapped up quite nicely," he added, not immune to the young blond's 'charms.' He suspected Brian wasn't, either.

"Well, in either case, it's best to leave it be, Ted...if you value your job," she added, clearing her throat as Brian reemerged with some information about their next client. He eyed them with one elegantly arched eyebrow, noting that Ted was still perched on the corner of his assistant's desk.

"Is your ass glued there, Theodore? If so, get some Super Glue remover and haul your ass into the conference room. Sharp Industries is due here any minute. Chop, chop...or would you rather I chop off your head down in HR?"

Ted immediately slid off the desk, and rose to stand. "I'm right behind you," he dutifully responded as Brian nodded, pushing a boatload of files and other paperwork into his hands, including a rolled-up tube containing some initial designs for the client's print campaign.

"Come along, Theodore," Brian intoned regally as the two men headed down the hallway toward the conference room. Shaking her head in amusement, Cynthia picked up her phone to call in a carryout, her mind temporarily diverted from the previous encounter with their newest intern.

* * *

><p><em>Later that evening...Brian's loft<em>

Brian idly threaded his fingers through Justin's hair as the younger man lay in between his legs on the couch, Brian's other hand stroking his lover's belly where Justin's tee-shirt had ridden up slightly above his waist. Some documentary about old musicals was currently playing on the television, but neither man was paying it much mind; they were more interested in just relaxing and being with each other after eating some takeout and drinking a couple glasses of red wine earlier.

"I think they know, Brian."

Brian's lips vibrated against Justin's cheek. "Know what, Picasso?"

"I think Ted and Cynthia have already figured out we're more than just an employer and employee."

Brian continued to play with Justin's hair as he asked, "And why would you think that, Justin?"

"You should have seen the looks on their faces when I walked out of your office, and Cynthia introduced me to your accountant. It's like I was being x-rayed or something; almost like I didn't have any clothes on. At least I felt that way."

"I happen to _like_ you without any clothes on," Brian teased him.

Justin turned in his arms and placed his hands, palms down, on Brian's chest, unable to stop from smiling in response to the less-than-serious look on his lover's face.

"I'm serious, Brian! I don't know how - but they know. I can tell by the way they look at me. They were both wondering why some lowly intern would be in your office, having a private meeting with the CEO."

Brian wrapped his arms around his lover as he gently chided him, "Justin, I'm sure you're just imaging things. They can't have any way of knowing about our true relationship."

"Maybe, maybe not. We weren't exactly silent when we giving each other blowjobs, you know," his companion pointed out.

Brian grinned. "No, I guess we weren't," he admitted. "But my door is well-insulated, and even if they DID hear something, it's none of their fucking business. And I trust them implicitly. They're both long-term employees, and they know better than to engage in office gossip. They will keep our confidence, don't worry; or they'll both be out on their asses, looking for other jobs," he added. "I won't condone the spreading of rumors around the office. It's like that telephone game; once you tell one person, and then another one, by the time it gets back to the first person it's nothing like the original story. And it's non-conducive to productivity."

Justin nodded, still concerned but somewhat mollified. "I just don't want to cause any problems for you, especially after everything you've done for me. And I don't want anyone thinking I got this job just because I'm fucking with the boss."

Brian smiled. "I can take care of myself...and they will all know soon enough how valuable an employee you are," he assured him as he slid his hand up to the back of Justin's neck and pulled him down for a kiss. As he broke off the kiss several seconds later, he added, "You are going to be a big asset to me, Justin, _and_ to Kinnetik," he told him as Justin flushed at the praise. "You just keep doing your job, and let me worry about everything else, okay?"

He playfully kissed the tip of Justin's nose as he told him, "By the way, we're going to be really busy this coming weekend."

"Well, you know I'll work whenever you need me to," Justin assured him, but Brian shook his head.

"It's not that kind of work," he explained. "The real estate agent called me today."

"And...?"

Brian smiled. "...And we will be busy this weekend packing."

Justin beamed back at him with pleasure. "They accepted your offer!" Brian nodded. "That's wonderful, Brian! Gus is going to be so happy to hear that!"

"And you? You think you can get used to living out in another time zone?"

Justin laughed. "It's not in another time zone!"

Brian grimaced. "It might as well be," he grumbled. "I'm renting a P.O. Box here in the Pitts for my mail out there; there is NO way I'm going to admit to anyone that I'm living in West Virginia."

Justin chuckled. "What a snob you are!" His eyes twinkled as he told Brian, "Just think, though. Now that you have the house, we can each have our own bedrooms now, with our own bathrooms, too."

"_We_?"

"Well, there ARE half a dozen of them," Justin pointed out. "I think I'll take the last one on the left, right across from Gus's room. Don't you think that one with the window seat that looks out over the backyard would be perfect for him?"

"No, and yes."

Justin scrunched up his face. "Huh?"

"No, you are NOT moving into the bedroom across from Gus...and yes, I think that is the perfect one for him. Overlooking the backyard...and far enough from OUR bedroom that a little, inquisitive boy cannot hear what two consenting, hot-blooded, American gay males are doing in their _own _bedroom. Got it...Mr. Taylor?"

Justin grinned like a fool; he _liked_ this possessive side of his partner. "Loud and clear..._Mr. Kinney_." He squeaked as Brian dug his fingernails into the sides of his waist, making him shriek with laughter. "Stop it, you asshole!" he cried out as Brian chuckled while he continued to mercilessly tickle him. "Bri...Brian...quit! I can't breathe...!"

Finally, Brian stopped his torture, gazing up into Justin's face - his flushed skin, his sparkling eyes, his full, plump lips, just waiting to be 'plucked' - causing his expression to change to something more serious, as did Justin's. The two of them continued to stare at each other as if hypnotized until Brian moved to rise from the couch, pulling Justin up with him.

Bestowing a questioning look on him, Brian reached his hand out to grasp his lover's as he reached down to retrieve the remote and turn off the television, bathing the loft in silence. "Time for all good boys to go to bed, Mr. Taylor," he quietly told him.

"But...it's only 9:00," Justin pointed out, his hair all messy and his clothes in disarray where Brian's hands had previously roamed all over his body.

Brian smirked. "Who said anything about sleeping?"

Justin blushed as he grinned. Brian pulled him closer for a short but passionate kiss before the two lovers walked hand-in-hand toward the bedroom.

* * *

><p><em>The Following Saturday - Brian's loft building - 8:30 a.m.<em>

"I'm still in shock," Mel commented as she, Lindsay, and Gus emerged from their car at the curb, and walked toward Brian's building. "What do we really know about this Justin, anyway?" She was still reeling from finding out that not only was he _living_ with Brian now, but Brian had purchased a _house! _ She didn't know which fact astonished her more.

Lindsay flashed her a warning look, both of them knowing how Gus felt about this new man in his father's life. Gus constantly gushed to them about "Justin did this, or Justin said that," to the point where both of them actually were beginning to suffer some pangs of envy over the way their child was so besotted with him. But she had to admit - Gus was normally a good judge of character, and did not bond that readily with strangers, so there must be something about this one that was unusual.

Just as she figured, their son piped up then. "Justin's my friend," Gus told them. "He gave me this whistle, and he lets me draw with him. I like him."

Lindsay laughed. "Yes, we know. And we know how much you love your whistle," she told him, referring to the constant tooting of the wood toy around their home. "Are you excited about having your own bedroom, Gus?"

Gus nodded, his eyes shining with excitement. "Daddy told me I could pick which one I want. And he told me he would get me a swimming pool, and a tramp...tramp..."

"...Trampoline," Mel finished for him as Gus nodded excitedly.

"And a playground. And maybe even a pony!"

Mel sighed as she looked over at Lindsay, the three of them arriving at the building's front door. "Sounds like a certain someone is promising a little boy the world." She shook her head. "Wish WE could afford all that." She let out a deep breath of concern. "I don't know about Gus being around all those movers that are coming," she told her partner. "You know how he can get underfoot sometimes."

"Mel, we promised Brian," Lindsay reminded her. "You know he would never let anything happen to him. And besides, he has custody, remember?"

Mel snorted as Lindsay punched the button to wait for Brian to pick up. "How can I forget?" she groused as the intercom came alive with static.

"Lindsay?"

"Yeah, we're here, Brian."

"Come on up," Brian told her as they heard the buzzer sound, allowing them access to the building. A few minutes' ride later up in the elevator with a very restless, excitable, little boy, and they found Brian's door to the loft wide open.

Brian flashed his son a huge smile as his 'mini-me' came running full-tilt into the loft. "Hey, Sonny Boy! Ready for the big move today?" Boxes were scattered everywhere - on the floor, the kitchen island, even on top of the television in preparation for the movers' arrival within the hour.

Gus nodded enthusiastically. "Can I ride in the big truck with them, Daddy?"

He was pulled up into Brian's waiting arms as he swept him off his feet, supporting him under his butt as he laughed. "I don't think so, Buddy." In reaction to his son's pout, he explained, "Justin and I need you to help us put everything of yours in the car, and make sure we don't leave anything here. You're going to be our moving boss today," he told him, as he tugged affectionately on his son's engineer's cap Gus seemed to like that idea about being 'the boss,' nodding back at him with a beaming smile as Brian rose back up on his feet to acknowledge the two mothers.

"Hey, Linds, Mel. Thanks for bringing him over so early."

Lindsay laughed. "Are you kidding? Ever since he found out you were moving today, he's been wanting to come over here. We had to practically tie him down so he wouldn't get out of bed before dawn. First time we didn't have to ask him to get dressed, eat, and brush his teeth." She looked around. "Where's Justin?"

"He'll be out in a minute; he's finishing up in the bathroom."

"Alone?"

"Yes, Mel, alone," Brian replied tersely as the woman smiled sweetly back at him.

"Can I go say hi to him, Daddy?"

Brian smiled. "I guess so. Just knock if the bathroom's door closed, okay, before you enter."

"Okay!" Gus cried out as his father let him down. He was barely on the floor before he took off at a run, yelling out Justin's name as he rushed toward the bedroom and then the bathroom beyond.

Brian chuckled. "I hope Justin's dressed!" He watched his son disappear before turning his attention back to the two women, finding them both staring at him curiously. "What?"

"I'm...I'm still trying to wrap my head around you living with another man...not only that, but moving into a house with one," Lindsay commented. "Justin must be quite special."

Brian thought about replying with something sarcastic, but surprisingly he found in this case that he couldn't. "He is," he simply admitted to their utter astonishment. "But I didn't buy the house because Justin moved in with me, and we needed more room. I would have asked him to move in regardless. I mainly did it because...well, my son deserved a proper backyard to play in, and because it was time for a change."

"Wow," Mel replied, her mouth hanging open. "The sex must be really hot between you two," she quipped.

"It is," Brian replied with a smirk before he huffed in exasperation. "You just don't get it, do you, Mel? I could go to Babylon or the baths and have sex with any number of hot guys. You think I have to buy a fucking house in order to get that?" He was about to say more, but was interrupted by his 'two boys' walking back in from the bathroom. Justin, who was fully dressed in a casual outfit of jeans, sneakers, and a short-sleeved tee-shirt, was holding Gus in his arms as he smiled a little nervously at the two women whom he still did not really know very well. He had engaged in polite conversation with them on a couple of occasions after they had all attended Gus's play, but he still did not feel very comfortable around them yet. "Hello, Melanie. Hello, Lindsay," he greeted them, as he gently lowered Gus to the floor.

"Justin," Lindsay returned the greeting with a smile. Mel nodded back at him as well with a half-smile, as she peered intently over at him, still trying to figure out how this particular young man had seemingly captured the great Brian Kinney's heart. "You must be excited about today as well."

Justin shuffled a little nervously on his feet, saying with a smile, "Yes. It's going to be a wonderful place for Gus to play. Has he told you anything about it?"

"Are you kidding?" Lindsay replied with a laugh. "Ever since Brian told him about the move today, except for sleeping and eating, he's pretty much done nothing but talk about it. It sounds like quite a place."

Justin glanced over at his lover in surprise. "Brian hasn't shown you any pictures of it?" He wondered if they realized just how outrageously huge it was. Did they realize it was akin to the size of a museum? A LARGE museum?

"Not yet," Brian answered in response. "I was waiting until we were moved in and the place was furnished."

"They're not coming out to see it today?" Justin asked.

"Is that what you think I should do?" Brian asked him quietly, stunning both women. Brian Kinney - asking another man's opinion about something so personal?

Justin shrugged, feeling everyone's eyes on him. "Not necessarily," he told him with a smile. "Up to you."

Brian nodded as he turned to look at the two mothers. "Well, if you're free next weekend, I'll barbeque and you can come out then and take the grand tour. You're more than welcome to spend the night Saturday night, too; there's plenty of room." He wasn't particularly looking forward to entertaining Mel, especially, but he figured it was inevitable, so he might as well get it over with. At least he could put them at the opposite end of the hallway upstairs, too, near Gus and AWAY from his and Justin's room.

Lindsay turned to her partner, who nodded. "Okay; sounds good." She turned to her son and smiled. "Give Mommy and Mama a kiss, and we'll be off then, Sweetheart. We'll pick you up here tomorrow at six."

Brian nodded. "I'll make sure he's back here by then. Justin and I will probably spend the night here at the loft tomorrow night until we have everything at the house. The movers are just taking the large stuff and all the boxes today. We'll still have dishware and a lot of smaller things to move, but I think we'll be fully moved in by next weekend."

Lindsay nodded back at him. "I'll be here to pick him up then. Give us a kiss, Gus." Their little boy gave each mom a somewhat slobbery kiss on their cheeks as they knelt down to bestow a short hug on him before turning to leave.

"See you tomorrow, Brian," Lindsay told her friend as she and Mel headed toward the door.

"And watch him closely around those movers," Mel added, one eyebrow arched upward in caution.

"No, I thought I'd let him play under the tires," Brian called after them sarcastically, sighing as Mel glared at him briefly before they shut the door, leaving the three of them finally alone. "Shit, you'd think I hadn't been taking care of my son since he was a newborn," he groused. "I know how to keep my son safe." He thought back to that one day, however, when he thought he might be losing his son at that restaurant in Tennessee, and for a brief instance he wondered if he was correct. _WAS he a poor father?_ _No_, he decided, just before Justin verbalized the same thought.

His partner reached over to squeeze his wrist. "Yes, you do," he told Brian softly as Gus ran to the window, having heard the rumble of a large truck coming down the street and hoping it was the movers coming. "You are a wonderful father, Brian."

Brian pulled his lover into a grateful embrace, the two of them just standing there, holding each other and enjoying the relative calm before the storm, before Gus let out a shriek of delight. "They're here, they're here!" he shouted, as he turned to take off in a dead run toward the door.

"Hey, hold on there, partner!" Brian called out as he managed to just barely snag his son rushing by him with his arm. "We'll go down together." Gus nodded excitedly as Brian turned to his partner to say, "It's going to be a long day." Justin chuckled at him in understanding before father and son headed toward the elevators to go greet the movers.


	21. Preparing for the Barbecue

_The boys get better acquainted with their new home, as Justin frets about meeting Brian's friends and colleagues in his new role as partner. _

_Later that night..._

Justin stood in the doorway of Brian's office, quietly admiring the handsome man sitting behind his desk, the remnants of his steak dinner in front of him. Gus had long ago delivered his father's meal, using one of the plastic serving trays like the ones that were used at the _Sit-A-Spell_ restaurant. It had been a silly memento to ask for, but it had represented a part of his life at the time, so he had requested one when the two of them had left to head up north. Back then, though, he had no idea where his path would lead him - and who and where it would lead him TO. But he was so thankful that it had led him here.

He still had to almost pinch himself to believe that here he was, in this grand house, living with the man of his dreams as a member of a small family unit. For that was what he considered him, Brian, and Gus - a family. And while he still missed his own sister - and Daphne - terribly, the past few weeks with Brian, getting to know him and his son better as he fell deeper and deeper in love with both of them - filled him with immense joy.

His job, too, was going extremely well; it was even better than it had been at StrataG - that is, before he found out Marcum's true colors. While he realized he was the 'low man on the totem pole' at Kinnetik - having to prove himself to the other employees - they all treated him with respect and seemed genuinely impressed with his work. And Brian had turned out to be a fair but impartial boss. He did his share of critiquing his work, but when he did find some issues with it, his suggestions were professional and relevant. Fortunately, Brian understood his need to feel like he was part of the team, and did not outwardly show any favoritism toward him. In fact, most of his suggestions for improvement were channeled through Will Klosterman, the Art Director, rather than to him directly, at least in the office. That was the way that Justin expected it to be; he did not want any special attention or favors given to him.

Outside the office, however, while they _did_ discuss projects in the comfort of their new home, both men seemed to instinctively understand that they wanted to reserve that time for more pleasurable pursuits, getting to know each other more deeply, both intellectually AND physically. Britin - as Brian had decided he wanted to call their home - was an amazing retreat for mind and body. True to his word, in the week between the time the movers had arrived at the loft and today, Brian had managed to get an astounding amount of changes done. As promised to his son, he had had a playground installed in the backyard and a trampoline (with a security net around it; that was a given with Gus around), along with something none of them would have ever imagined: somewhere Brian had found an actual kiddie train ride from a bankrupt amusement park that was being auctioned off, and had installed it for his son. Now, whenever Gus wanted to ride on a train, all he had to do was step outside the back door, hop on board the passenger car behind the scaled-down version of the locomotive, and wait (rather impatiently) for Brian or Justin to activate the switch for him. The elongated, oval-shaped track wound around a scenic acre of the grounds, and Gus never seemed to grow tired of the activity.

With all the amazing additions Brian had made to their home's backyard, there was no doubt that Gus would soon become one of the street's favorite children as soon as the other kids discovered the fantasyland hiding there. For now, however, the small family thrived in their new surroundings, and treasured their relative obscurity and privacy.

That was all about to change tomorrow, however, for Brian had decided to throw caution to the wind and invite not only Mel and Lindsay out to the house for a barbecue (they had agreed to drop Gus off earlier this evening at the loft and let him spend the night at Britin tonight), but also Ted and Cynthia and some other friends to show them the new house - and to formally introduce them to Justin as his partner.

That last part found Justin feeling decidedly nervous. He was just now becoming more comfortable around Mel and Lindsay, but now Brian wanted to invite several more of his friends and work associates here for an impromptu housewarming party? He had been somewhat taken aback when Brian had suggested it, a little surprised that he would encourage social relationships with his co-workers outside the office, and even now - more than a few days after Brian had first mentioned it - he wasn't sure if it was a good idea or not. For one thing, his ability to 'fly under the radar' at work was going to be a thing of the past once they found out he was living with Brian, He wasn't sure how he felt about that, to be honest. Would Brian's colleagues look at him differently afterward, and walk around on eggshells whenever he was nearby, or whisper behind his back? Would they coddle him, or be afraid to speak their minds when he was around? He didn't want to earn any accolades except through his own merit, nor did he want any special treatment from anyone, and he was afraid that might happen after tomorrow.

Brian clearing his throat turned his attention back to the present as he blinked to peer over at him, realizing he had been daydreaming. "Uh, I presume you are the head chef?" Brian inquired politely from his place behind his desk. "I asked the waiter to go find you, but all he did was come back here, deliver my meal - and then promptly fall asleep over there on the couch." He cocked his head over toward the leather couch situated in the corner and grinned.

Justin chuckled softly as he observed Gus curled up on the sofa, lying on his side with a light throw covering his body, the menu pad and pencil clutched in his arms as he slumbered away, oblivious to their conversation.

"I guess you just can't get reliable help anymore," Justin deadpanned as Brian rolled his chair back from the desk and rose from his seat.

"Or maybe the gourmet chef is working their staff too hard," Brian teased back, curling his lips under. Walking over to his son, he gently scooped him up into arms and carried him over to the doorway, pausing for a moment to lean over and gently kiss Justin on the lips. "Come upstairs with me," was the silky plea.

"But the dinner dishes..."

"Leave them, Justin," Brian commanded.

"And have bugs crawling all over your desk tonight?" The former waiter in him couldn't let the soiled dishes remain where they were as he promised his partner, "You put Gus to bed and I'll be up by the time you're back in the master bedroom."

Brian nodded then. "You'd better be. Wouldn't want you to get dishpan hands - or my dick to get soft."

Justin grinned as the two set off in different directions, Brian heading up the steps with his precious cargo, while Justin gathered up the dishes and placed them on the restaurant tray to carry them back to the kitchen.

True to his word, a few minutes later Justin joined his partner in their master bedroom, stopping just inside the massive space to peer over at Brian, who was sitting up with his back to the headboard, his legs crossed at the ankles in their king-sized bed, wearing only a pair of loose-fitting sleep pants and a pair of reading glasses as he perused some business magazine. Until they had moved in here together, Justin hadn't realized that Brian used glasses to read while he was in bed, but for some reason he thought they made him look quite sexy. Of course, Brian was _always_ sexy to him no matter what.

"What?" Brian called over to him as he looked up and noticed Justin hesitating.

Justin smiled. "Nothing. Just enjoying the view," he answered.

Brian smirked as he laid the magazine down onto the nightstand beside him; suddenly the newest advances in smart technology didn't seem quite so interesting. "Well, the view's even better over here," he promised as he patted the mattress. "Come closer, and I'll show you."

Justin laughed at the cheesy line as he approached the bed, stopping for a moment to pull his tee-shirt over his head and toss it onto a nearby chair and then stooping to slip out of his shoes and jeans, discarding them next to the shirt before turning back around to look at his lover. His face warmed as he noticed Brian's eyes raking down and then back up his body appreciatively.

Brian scooted over more to the side as Justin walked over and slid in beside him; within a few seconds, his partner was raining light kisses all over his neck, jaw, and shoulders, Brian's hands caressing him everywhere as Justin sighed with pleasure. "That feels so good," he murmured as Brian gently pushed him down onto the bed so he was lying on his back.

Draping his longer frame over Justin's, Brian stared down into his eyes for several seconds before he asked unexpectedly, "You _are _happy here, right?"

Justin frowned. "Why would you ask that?" he replied.

Brian shook his head slightly in dismissal. "No particular reason. I just want you to be comfortable here, too. This was a big change for both of us."

Justin smiled at him. "Well, sometimes I do feel like I need one of those maps like you get at the big box department stores to find my way around," he admitted. "This house is huge, Brian!"

"Too huge to be a real home?" Brian pressed softly.

Justin furrowed his brow as he peered up into the concerned face. "You're not having buyer's remorse _now_, are you?" he asked. "Little late for that; once you've laid track down, it's yours, Tex," he teased him. He shook his head in amazement. "I still can't believe you found that train ride for Gus. He may not want to go back home at all now."

Brian grinned, liking the thought of irking Melanie with that for some reason. "Yeah, I know." He turned more serious as he admitted, "If I could, I would have him here with me full-time. But I know that's not possible." He let out a deep breath. "God, I miss him when he's not around - even if he CAN be a deterrent at times to _other_ activities." Justin smiled; Brian's son DID seem to have uncanny timing when they had been at the loft and wanted to be alone. But he understood what he was saying perfectly, and his partner's undying devotion to his son was one of the things he admired and loved the most about him.

Brian shook his head. "No, I wouldn't renege on my contract now, even if I could," he confirmed. "You saw the way Gus's eyes lit up over this house and the backyard when the agent showed it to us. I wasn't really looking at the size of the house when I was trying to decide what to buy; it was more like the feeling I got from being here." He paused. "It's kind of hard to explain. But it just felt..._right."_

Justin nodded. "I think I understand," he told him.

Brian twisted a strand of Justin's hair around two of his fingers as he reminded him, "You still haven't answered my question, by the way."

"Brian, I don't know why you're asking me that now. I thought I had convinced you before that I wanted to live with you. Why are you having second thoughts about what I said?"

"Maybe because you've seemed kind of preoccupied today."

Justin frowned, his fingers lightly gripping Brian's muscular, upper arms as his partner lay on top of him, their legs intertwined. "How so?"

"Just...quieter than normal; more reflective. Even at work today, you seemed a little out of focus somehow. Not quite as tuned in to your art as you normally are. It's hard to explain. Am I wrong?"

Justin sighed, signaling that Brian's perception was correct. "It's not that exactly," he began. "Not about moving here. I think this house is incredible. And living with you...and Gus...it makes me very happy, Brian. Happier than I ever thought I could be."

Brian stopped playing with his partner's hair to stare into his eyes. "I'm glad to hear that. Then what, Justin? What has been on your mind so much lately?"

"It's...about tomorrow."

Brian laid his hand against Justin's jaw, his fingers slowly brushing against his skin. "What? You're a former waiter who doesn't know how to barbecue?" he teased. "That's okay - I'm a master griller. You serve, I'll grill. We'll be the perfect team."

His partner shook his head. "No, it has nothing to do with that."

"Justin..."

He sighed again. "Brian, I thought initially you were just going to invite Melanie and Lindsay out to the house tomorrow. Then I find out you're inviting not only then, but some of your other friends, and even some people from work."

A slight twinge of irritation flickered across Brian's face as his fingers stilled. "I have to confer with you first on those kinds of things?" He quickly shook his head, instantly regretting what he had just said as he noticed Justin wince in reaction. _Shit._ "I guess I should have asked you first. But I didn't think it would make any difference." One side of his mouth lifted up in concession. "I'm not used to living with someone, either; or having to check with anyone else before I make decisions. Guess we both have a learning curve here. If you want me to change it back to the way it was originally, I can always..."

"No, Brian," Justin told him quietly, feeling a little regretful himself and just a bit selfish. "That's not what I meant. I don't care how many you invited to come. It's just that...I'm a little nervous about it."

"Why?"

"Well...The people from Kinnetik are bound to figure out now that we are more than just employee and employer. I don't want them to think any less of me, because you and I are...involved. I'm afraid they're going to think I only got where I did because I was fucking the boss."

"Other way around."

"I'll let that go for now," Justin responded as Brian arched one brow a little in surprise. It wasn't that he hadn't considered it, but the two of them had never openly discussed it. "You know what I'm saying. That was one of the reasons why I was hesitant to come work for you in the first place, so I'm a little surprised you would invite them, then. You know how important it is for me to feel like I'm contributing on my own to your company's success, and not being given a job merely because of our relationship."

Brian pressed his lips together tightly as he dropped his hands to rest on either side of Justin's neck. "Justin...it's not like I'm inviting the whole company to come. It's just Cynthia and Ted; I've already told you they are not gossipers. And just some friends of mine that I want you to meet. And I want them to meet _you._"

"You do?"

Brian smiled. "Of course I do. It's not like you're some dirty little secret of mine. I'm..._proud_ of you, Justin. I want them to get to know you, and for you to get to know them."

Justin's heart pounded over Brian's words. "That sounds kind of permanent, Brian," he whispered at last.

Brian stared into his lover's eyes, mesmerized by how brilliantly blue they were, how luminous. "It is," he found himself whispering back. "I intend for you to be here for a long time, Justin. This is your home now, too. If you want it to be."

Justin's eyes glistened. That was quite a statement coming from this man. He was still somewhat anxious about tomorrow in a way - wanting so badly for the people Brian cared about to like and accept him in his life - but just hearing Brian expressing such a commitment to him and to their relationship made it less overwhelming. "You know I do," he finally whispered back, his voice slightly choked with emotion. "I..." He wanted so badly to say those three, momentous words to his lover, his partner, his everything. But somehow he was still afraid; afraid that he might never hear those words repeated back to him, and that he might be pressuring Brian to feel an obligation to say them, whether he meant it or not. So he held back. "I wouldn't want to be anywhere else."

Brian nodded then, reaching up with his right hand to thread his fingers through some of Justin's hair. He loved feeling the soft texture of it, and seeing how it shone under the subdued lighting in the bedroom. Hell, he loved everything about this man. So why couldn't he state that out loud? Instead of analyzing his reasons, however, he leaned down to kiss the soft, warm lips before replying against his mouth, "I'm glad to hear that." Pulling back enough to gaze into his eyes, he suggested, "Now let's take advantage of our little train engineer being in dreamland, and forget about tomorrow for now, okay? Everything will be fine; you'll see." Justin nodded back at him with a smile, as the two kissed once more, this time more passionately.

As Brian proceeded to make love to him, Justin chose to concentrate on the caresses, words, and sounds coming from his partner, pushing his niggling doubts to the back of his mind. There would be plenty of time to worry about that tomorrow. For now, he only wanted to concentrate on the present, and on this incredible man who was such an important part of his life now.

* * *

><p><em>The Next Morning...8:00 a.m.<em>

_Toot! Toot! _

Brian groaned as he slowly came to consciousness and blinked at the sunlight splashing through the tall windows; _surely not_, he thought. But then he heard it again, and he knew he hadn't imagined it while in his sleep. His first thought was that his neighbors were going to kill them. His second thought was that he was possibly going to kill his son first.

Disentangling himself from his lover's embrace as gently as he could, Justin stirred slightly in his sleep but did not wake up as Brian slid out of bed and shuffled over to one of the windows overlooking the backyard, turning the old-fashioned knob downward to swing the window outward as he looked down and noticed his son sitting behind the engineer's spot in the train locomotive, getting ready to yank on the rope to toot the steam engine horn once more. Thinking he'd better get the security alarm installed soon in the house so his son couldn't slip out again without his notice, he called down in hopes of getting his son's attention. "Gus!" he hissed from the open window as loudly as he dared without disturbing his lover several feet away.

Thankfully, his son had good hearing, because he watched as the little boy cocked his head toward him and smiled. "Hi, Daddy!" he chirped brightly as he beamed radiantly up at him.

Brian shook his head in amusement, unable to avoid returning his smile. "Hey, Sonny Boy," he called down to him softly. "Listen, don't sound the horn again, okay? Justin's still asleep." _And I imagine the neighbors are, too_, he thought silently.

"Okay, Daddy," Gus called up to him as Brian placed his pointer finger over his lips in hopes his son would tone down the volume a bit. "But I want to take a ride. Can you come down and turn it on?"

Brian sighed. What had possessed him to find that contraption in the first place? Was he trying to encourage his son to grow up and seek a job steering some stinky, pollution-spouting steam train for a living, while he wore some godforsaken ensemble from the days of cattle rustlers and bank robbers? No. He knew why he had done it; because it had made his son extremely happy, and that made _him _happy.

"I'll be down in a few minutes, Sonny Boy," he promised as Gus nodded back up at him excitedly. He shook his head again and chuckled, noticing Gus was still wearing his pajamas but no shoes, even though he had still managed to locate his engineer's cap and scarf - and the ever-present whistle around his neck. Softly latching the window shut again, he turned around to look over at the bed as his heart skipped a beat at the sight in front of him. He had never thought he would ever relish waking up with a man in his bed on a daily basis - and going to bed with the same person at night - but he was beginning to like that idea, at least when it involved _this_ beautiful man.

He resisted the urge to walk over and kiss those inviting lips good morning as he crept back around the end of the bed and headed toward the bathroom, only to be stopped when he heard a sleep-laden voice.

"I'm awake," Justin told him softly as his eyes fluttered open and he turned his head to peer over at his partner. "What time is it?" he asked, as he stretched his arms above him to try and wake up further.

Brian walked back over to the bed and sat down on Justin's side. Reaching down, he brushed his fingertips over Justin's warm lips. "A little after eight," he told him. "Did I wake you?"

"Not you," Justin confirmed with a smile as Brian nodded. "I think it was our resident engineer. Was that a horn I heard, or did I just imagine it?"

Brian laughed. "No, you heard right. I'm on my way down to start up the locomotive."

Justin grinned; not too surprised that Gus was already raring to go. "And just who found that ride for him?"

Brian groaned. "Guilty as charged." He stared into Justin's eyes before he advised him, "I told Sonny Boy I'd be down in a few minutes. I think that gives me just enough time for a quick shower. Care to join me?" He waggled his eyebrows as Justin laughed.

"Sounds like a plan."

Brian grinned as he reached down to pull his sleepy partner up to a sitting position, taking advantage of the situation to kiss him briefly. Pulling him off the bed, the two lovers headed toward the adjoining bathroom.


	22. The Barbecue: Part One

_Mel and Lindsay get to see the new house for the first time. Gus presents them with a surprise. What other surprises will be discovered?_

_12:30 p.m._

"Are you sure this is right?" Mel asked as she took a left turn onto a one-lane road. "This is really off the beaten track. I still can't believe Brian would decide to live out here," she added.

"Well, that's what the GPS is saying," Lindsay replied, holding the device in her hand. "It says to go about 1 ½ miles and make a right onto Broderick Avenue." She looked around at the houses that were scattered far apart from each other. "Well, I knew Brian wanted to find a backyard for Gus to play in, and that he said the new house was only about 20 minutes away from Kinnetik, but I didn't think he would wind up in another state," she admitted. "It _is_ pretty out here, though, don't you think?"

Mel shrugged. "Yeah, I suppose, if you're into cows and rolling hills," she conceded. "Still can't believe this was Brian's first choice. You think Justin talked him into it?"

Lindsay laughed. "Brian? I hardly think so. Brian makes up his own mind. I'm sure he picked it out because he felt it was the best one for Gus."

Mel strained to look for a sign indicating they were traveling in the right direction. "I guess. But this Justin seems to have really gotten under his skin."

Her partner grinned at the double entendre. "That's one way of putting it."

Mel snorted as she realized what she had said. "That would be a given," she agreed dryly. "But you know what I mean. This is not like Brian at all."

"He does appear to be genuinely taken with him," Lindsay agreed. "I admit the age difference surprises me a little. But he seems like a nice, young man, and Gus is very fond of him."

"I suppose," Mel conceded grudgingly. Their son continued to talk about Justin frequently; it was obvious Gus really cared about this relative stranger, and he had been talking incessantly all week about the barbecue today. At last, they were about to see this new home that Gus was so excited about as well - and further observe the man who had become such an important part of their son's life. "I still want to get to know him better, especially if he's going to be spending so much time with our son."

"Well, if we ever _find _the place, this should be a good day to do that," Lindsay told her as she scanned the road ahead. "There it is," she told Mel as she pointed to a sign on the right.

"_That's_ his street?" Mel asked in amazement. "I can't wait to see the house, then." The road was narrow and relatively nondescript, seemingly stuck out in the middle of nowhere, although the bushes surrounding the entrance were neatly trimmed, and the grass strip on either side of it had been cut recently.

"Well, Brian said it was to the right of the cul-de-sac; he said there's an iron gate with some greenery around it," Lindsay reminded her as they slowly drove down the street. "There!" She declared, seeing an entrance that seemed to fit the description perfectly. As Mel steered the car to the right and headed up the driveway, their mouths dropped open as the house on the hill came into view for the first time.

"Holy shit," Mel murmured as she stopped the car a few moments later in front of the house. They were apparently the first guests to arrive, since there were no other cars in the driveway at the moment; they had left early, not being sure how long it would take to get there. "This isn't a house; it's a fucking _university_!"

Lindsay's eyes grew wide. Mel was right; this was no ordinary residence. "Oh, my God," she exclaimed as Mel turned the motor off. As they got out of the vehicle a few seconds later, they couldn't take their eyes off the home Brian had purchased. They knew he always believed in pulling out all the stops whenever he did something, whether it was in business or in his personal life, but this was hard to believe. "This could be a hotel," Mel murmured as she looked up to study the looming building.

Lindsay shook her head. "I would have never imagined something like this in West Virginia of all places."

"You're _sure_ we have the right address?" Mel insisted.

"Of course. It's the right house number; there's the address right there," she pointed out, noting a brass plate to the right of the door with the numbers etched in it. "This has to be the place."

"Maybe you wrote it down wrong."

"Mel..." Lindsay replied in exasperation. Just then, the question was definitely answered as the front door opened, and their son came rushing outside to greet them. "Mommy! Mama!" Gus shrieked excitedly, his eyes shining with happiness.

"Hey, Honey!" Lindsay greeted her son, leaning down to kiss him on the cheek and pull him to her side.

"Hi, Gus," Melanie replied with a smile as she, too, leaned over to grasp their son by his shoulders and give him a brief peck on the cheek before letting him go. "Where _is_ everybody?"

"Daddy and Justin are out in the backyard," their son reported. "You got here before everyone else," he confirmed. "You want to see my room?" he asked, taking both women's hands and beginning to pull them toward the front door.

Lindsay smiled. "We sure would," she told him as they entered the house; both women stopped immediately as soon as they were inside, their mouths opening in astonishment in reaction to the majesty and masculine opulence of the interior. "Wow," she murmured in awe. "This place IS huge."

"Come on," Gus urged them as he headed confidently toward an imposing staircase. "My room's upstairs." The two women followed their son up to the second floor and down the hallway to the right, stopping at one of the rooms on the end. As they entered Gus's bedroom, once more they were stunned into silence. The room had been converted into a virtual train depot, with a model train running across the room near the ceiling; someone - presumably Justin - had even painted a Thomas the Tank mural on one wall with incredible detail.

"Isn't this cool?" Gus chirped as he ran over to his bed and dived onto it, giggling as he bounced lightly up and down on it. "I love my room!" he gushed as he quickly sat up and scrambled off it to turn and face his mothers.

"This is wonderful, Sweetheart!" Lindsay conceded. She eyed the mural closely. "Did Justin paint that for you?" Gus bobbed his head up and down affirmatively and smiled.

She walked over closer to the mural and studied it intently. "He really does have an incredible eye for detail," she told Mel as she noticed all the things Justin had put into the mural. He had recreated a virtual village on the wall. "I wonder when he even found time to do this?" she murmured. "The movers just came last week."

Mel walked up to her side to admire the handiwork. "He _is _quite an artist," she had to admit. She turned around slowly to look at the entire room. "And this room..." She peered over at their son, who was grabbing his wooden toy whistle off the desk; a small display case above it contained several cast iron models of trains, enclosed behind what appeared to be Plexiglas. Even Gus's light was constructed to look like an old fashioned engineer's lantern. "We may never get our son back home again," she stated, only half-teasing. Secretly she was a bit jealous that Brian and his new partner had managed to create such a perfect bedroom for Gus, but she had to admit - they had certainly put a lot of thought and detail into it, and it was obvious how much Gus loved it.

"This is like the perfect room for Gus," Lindsay commented, echoing her thoughts. As much as she hated to admit it - and despite his relative youth and lack of formal training as an artist - it was obvious that Justin was in a league by himself. His talent would be apparent to anyone, whether they had a creative eye or not. There was something almost visceral about his work. She couldn't deny she was impressed - as well as envious. "This is just amazing, Gus," she told her son, who beamed at her as he clutched a die-cast train locomotive in his hand.

"Wait until you see my real big train out back, Mommy!" he exclaimed excitedly. "Come and see!" he told her and Mel as he placed the die-cast model down onto his desk and scurried out the door.

The two women exchanged an amused look. "We'd better follow him, or we're liable to get lost up here," Mel told her partner as they hurried to keep up with their lively son. They struggled to catch up to Gus as he rushed helter-skelter down the steps, causing both women to hold their breaths and shout out a simultaneous 'be careful!' until he reached the bottom landing and confidently headed to the right, down the hallway toward the rear of the house.

Noticing Gus sliding open a glass patio door and heading outside a few seconds later, the two women paused as they came to the kitchen, mesmerized by the sheer size of it and the gourmet appliances. "Would you look at this?" Lindsay exclaimed as the two women stood next to the kitchen island. She noticed an open door nearby, apparently leading into a pantry; she could see canned goods inside. She shook her head in disbelief. "I bet that storage area over there is as big as our entire kitchen. Why would he need all this room?"

Mel smirked. "That's Brian Kinney for you. Always has to top everyone else."

As they slid the door open leading out to the backyard a few seconds later, the first thing they noticed - or rather heard - was the sound of Brian and Justin's voices nearby. The second thing they noticed was the enormous backyard itself, along with the 'train' Gus had evidently been referring to: a full-scale model like the ones you would let your child ride at the amusement park.

"Holy shit," Mel muttered as they watched Gus run over to the steam locomotive and promptly hop in.

"All aboard!" They heard Justin shout with a smile as he walked over to stand next to a control box and press a button. They watched as the train slowly began to move, providing Justin with just enough time to walk over and sit down beside their son to ride with him. They could hear Gus giggling with delight as he reached up to pull a rope above him, causing them to cover their ears as a high-velocity 'toot' sounded and fake smoke began to billow from the top of the smokestack. They watched, open-mouthed, as the train picked up a little more speed and slowly wound itself around a track in the yard, heading toward the open field.

"I...I don't believe it," Lindsay murmured. Was there no end to the surprises today?

"Linds, Mel." They turned their heads to acknowledge Brian standing next to a state-of-the-art barbecue station several feet away. He was wearing a dark blue apron tied around his neck and chest, and was wielding an extra-large, metal spatula in one hand, a beer in the other. "I see you found our humble little abode." He smirked as he waved the spatula around. "Try to find a seat somewhere if you can" he kidded them - truth be told, there were MORE than enough seats around the four patio tables scattered nearby. "The steaks will be ready soon. There're drinks in the fridge."

The two women eyed the expansive sitting area around the outdoor kitchen as they walked up to their host. "Brian," Lindsay greeted him breathlessly. "This house...And Gus's room. I don't really have the words for it."

Brian grinned. "Oh, so he showed you the train depot upstairs already, huh?"

Lindsay nodded as Mel took a closer look at the backyard. "What _was_ this place? Surely it wasn't a private residence. How many bedrooms are there here?"

"Six. It really WAS a private home originally, until the owner died and it was deeded to the church. After that, it was used as a seminary until the place went bankrupt and had to be put on the market."

Mel guffawed. "A _seminary_? How...totally ironic." Brian couldn't help smirking at her comment as the two women heard Gus shrieking with delight while he and Justin continued to slowly make their way around the train track.

"And where in the world did you get THAT?" Lindsay asked, nodding her head toward the ride.

"Amusement park that went belly up, too; bought it on an online auction, and had it shipped here."

The two women collectively shook their head; where had the real Brian Kinney gone? Perhaps he had been there all along, and had just been lying latent, just under the surface. Either that, or he had been waiting for the right person to come along. Was it possible it was Justin? They both knew - even Mel - how much Brian loved his son and would do anything for him, but all these changes were almost too much to fathom.

Just then, the train slowly came to a stop near where it had begun, and they could hear Gus cry out, "Again, Justin! Let's do it again!"

Justin laughed as he reached over and affectionately ruffled the little boy's hair. "I promise we will...later," he told the little boy, whose face fell slightly. "After lunch, maybe your moms will want to ride with you."

Gus smiled at that thought as Justin disembarked from the train and turned to help the child down, making sure he was safely on the ground before he walked over to join the two women and Brian. He smiled politely at them. "Hi, Melanie. Hi, Lindsay," he greeted them.

Lindsay and Melanie returned the smile, with Lindsay the first to speak. "Hello, Justin," she replied. "All settled in now?"

Justin nodded, still feeling a little awkward around these two women. He was never quite sure if they had some type of particular agenda or not, and wasn't certain if there was any hidden meaning behind that question. He already felt a little uncomfortable over the fact that Brian was basically paying all the expenses for the house, although he had convinced him to accept a good chunk of his pay from Kinnetik in partial reimbursement for some of the household utilities and groceries. Did these two women feel he was taking advantage of Brian? he wondered. "Yes, Brian and I have most of the unpacking done now." Trying to steer the conversation to something else, he asked, "Would you like something to drink? We have iced tea, beer, and some wine, along with bottled water and some chocolate milk for Gus in the fridge over there."

_Chocolate milk; Gus's favorite drink_. That fact did not go unnoticed by both women. "Some bottled water?" Lindsay asked Mel, who nodded in agreement. Justin nodded back at them before walking a few steps over to the compact, outdoor refrigerator, opening the door and retrieving a couple plastic bottles of spring water. Before he could stand back up, however, he felt Brian smack him on the ass.

"Hey!" Justin growled in mock protest as he stood up and glared over at his partner, who laughed.

"Sorry, Picasso, it was too much of a temptation to resist."

Justin's mouth slowly stretched into a grin before Brian leaned over and grabbed him by the back of the neck to give him a brief kiss before he turned back to his job as griller, flipping over a couple pieces of steak.

"Would you like to sit down?" Justin asked the two women as he handed them their water. HeHe led them over to the nearest table as they took a seat, placing a carton of chocolate milk down on the table for Brian's son. Moments later, Gus jumped down from the swing he had been using to run over and join them.

"Mommy, Mama, do you want to ride the train with me after lunch? It's really fun!" Gus told them as he sat down next to them and reached for the milk carton. The two women watched as Justin automatically retrieved a silly straw wrapped in plastic out of his pocket, and Gus handed him the milk carton to open it. Justin deftly pulled open the corner of the carton and stuck the straw in before handing it back to Gus as if he had done it a thousand times before.

"Thank you, Justin," Gus told him politely as the young man smiled back at him. Justin laughed as the little boy took a big slurp of it and then set it down on the table with a satisfied "aaah" sound, licking his lips in pleasure.

"Good?" he asked as Gus nodded enthusiastically as Justin smiled at him affectionately.

"Justin? Would you go into the house and bring me those tongs out of the utensil drawer, and the rest of the meat?" Brian called over to him then. Justin nodded as he walked over to the back of the house and slid the door open to disappear inside. A few minutes later, he came back bearing the requested tool, along with a small platter of hamburger patties and two hot dogs.

"Hot dogs today, Gus?" Justin asked as the little boy nodded eagerly. He was always in the mood for his favorite food.

"Uhh...Justin...Gus can't eat hot dogs made out of pork; it upsets his stomach for some reason," Lindsay informed him.

"He knows," Brian informed them. "Those are turkey franks; Justin picked them up earlier today at the store," he explained. Justin walked over to Brian and handed him the tongs and the platter with the additional meat on it, before finally turning to walk back over to their guests.

Mel studied the handsome, young man intently as he sat back down next to them. "You seem to know our son pretty well, Justin," she commented. She didn't know whether to be impressed or slightly envious over how well he and Gus had bonded in such a short time.

Justin blushed. "Well...I guess part of it is because I'm an artist. I have a good memory for details, and when Brian and Gus were vacationing down in Tennessee I remembered Brian telling me about his problem with regular hot dogs. And he was a big chocolate milk drinker at the restaurant where I worked," he explained, "so when I go to the grocery I try to pick up the right foods for him."

Mel nodded, her estimation of this unusual choice of Brian's for a partner ramping up a notch or two. Despite her wariness regarding this man who had virtually appeared out of nowhere and had now entrenched himself so firmly in her son's and Brian's lives, he did seem to genuinely care about Gus, and by the way that Brian's face softened as he glanced over at him occasionally, it was apparent that both father and son were smitten with Justin. She had never seen that particular look on Brian's face before. As much as it pained her to admit it, it was almost akin to the same sort of tender looks that Lindsay bestowed on HER at times.

The three of them continued to engage in polite, small talk as Gus sipped on his chocolate milk until they heard the doorbell ring, signifying some more guests had arrived. "I'll get it!" Gus shouted as he bounded off his chair and ran over to the backdoor, sliding it open with surprising agility and heading into the house to answer the front door.

Everyone chuckled as Brian dryly remarked, "Our own personal valet." He shook his head. "That kid has surprising strength; I can't believe how easily he can open that door."

A minute later, the door slid open again, and Gus stepped out with Cynthia and Ted in tow. "Unbelievable," Ted murmured as the two of them emerged onto the patio, both mouths agape much like Lindsay and Mel's had been as they slowly tried to digest all the opulence of the estate.

Cynthia turned to greet her boss. She wasn't that surprised in a way to find that their newest intern had been invited to attend Brian's barbecue, noticing Justin currently sitting directly beside Melanie Marcus and Lindsay Peterson. It looked decidedly cozy, and she once more pondered how this young man fit into Brian's life. Smiling at her boss and friend, she walked over to stand next to the patio table as Ted slowly followed her, still admiring all the grandeur he saw. "Brian," she called over to him as he nodded and smiled back at her, still ensconced in front of the smoky grill. She nodded at Mel and Lindsay, having met them on occasion before when they had visited Kinnetik or appeared at other social occasions involving Brian, such as the official grand opening of his business. She turned then to peer down at the handsome, young man quietly sitting beside them, and couldn't help smiling at him. There was just something humble and likable about Justin that, even though she did not know him well, made her feel comfortable around him. "Hi, Justin. Nice to see you out of the office in a more informal setting."

"Hi, Cynthia," he greeted her with a soft, nervous smile of his own. "Nice to see you, too." Justin focused his attention on Ted then, as the accountant joined them. "Hello, Mr...uh...Ted," he acknowledged him.

"Justin...I didn't know you were going to be here," he commented, glancing from the young intern over to Brian, who was busy trying to bat away some of the smoke from his face.

"Shit!" Brian growled then, temporarily interrupting their conversation. He started coughing and sputtering, causing Justin to giggle as he glared over at him. "Keep it up, Picasso! And I'll have YOU standing here over this fucking grill!"

"Oh, I wouldn't dare touch the great Mr. Kinney's newest toy," Justin quipped with a grin.

Brian smirked back at him. "Wrong!" he corrected him with a lopsided smile. "I have a newer toy up in the bedroom you haven't been introduced to yet," he informed him as Justin promptly blushed a deep red. Brian looked over at his two employees, whose eyes were wide as saucers in reaction.

"Oh, come on! Are you going to tell me you hadn't already figured out that Justin and I were..." he struggled for the right word, finally deciding on "involved outside the office? I thought you were more astute than that."

"But you were the one who wrote the work policy on non-fraternization," Ted pointed out. "You told me it was bad business for employees to be involved romantically with one another; that it would create awkwardness and bad morale among co-workers if their breakup was less than amicable."

"Glad you can recite the employee policy and procedure manual word-for-word," Brian told him dryly as he slid the spatula under the last of the steaks and flipped them over to brown on the other side, using the tongs to do the same for the two hot dogs. Turning the grill's burner down and lowering the lid to allow them to cook more slowly, he walked over to the group, wiping his hands on his apron before approaching his partner from behind and leaning down to slide his hands around his upper chest to lock his arms around him. Justin's heart pounded as Brian leaned down and nuzzled his neck, making him gasp softly in surprise. His face warmed as he saw everyone's eyes fixed on him.

"Brian," he murmured in reproach as his lover curled his lips under mischievously. "Stop it." He glanced over at the others, knowing there could be no doubt now that he and Brian were much more than just employee and employer. He knew eventually it had to come out, but this had been one of his biggest concerns. As he risked a glance over at Cynthia and Ted, he wondered what must be going through their minds. Would they think less of his abilities, or treat him any differently, now that they knew the truth about his and Brian's relationship?

He watched then as Ted's face broke out into a triumphant smile. "Looks like you'll be treating me to lunch Monday, Cyn," he told his co-worker, who rolled her eyes at him.

"If you'll recall, Ted, I merely said I wasn't _sure_ something was going on between them," she corrected him.

Ted shrugged. "Same thing. A bet's a bet."

Cynthia shook her head in resignation. "All right. Lunch Monday at _Dante's, _then. But Brian's paying; it's his fault, after all, for violating the no fraternization clause."

Justin frowned over their banter until he heard Brian chuckle. "You know what? I'll do you one even better. I'll treat you _both_ to lunch, and Justin and I will join you." He pulled out the chair next to him and sat down, placing his hand on Justin's knee under the table and giving it a squeeze.

Justin watched as his two co-workers grinned in agreement before he turned to face his partner, noticing Brian smiling back at him. "See, that wasn't so hard, was it?" he murmured, before he placed his hand behind Justin's neck and propelled him closer so he could bestow a tongue-washing kiss on him, breaking it off with a decided smacking of lips as Gus came running up to them.

Justin stood there slightly dazed and breathless next to Brian as Gus asked hopefully, "Is it time to eat now, Daddy?"

"Not yet, Sonny Boy. We're waiting for a few more guests to show up first." He grinned as his son's lower lip jutted out in disappointment. "Don't you worry, though, Sonny Boy," he reassured him. "It won't be long now. If everyone isn't here within fifteen minutes, we'll start eating either way, okay?"

Gus nodded in resignation, not exactly happy, but a little more appeased as another idea occurred to him. "Okay." He looked over at Justin then. "Justin?"

Justin smiled at him fondly, feeling a bit more relaxed now that Cynthia and Ted didn't seem too shocked over his and Brian's relationship. "Yes?"

"Can I go up to my room, and bring down our surprise now?"

Mel repeated curiously, "Surprise?"

Gus nodded in response, but his eyes remained focused on Justin. "Can I, Justin? Please?"

"Wouldn't you like to wait until after you eat, Gus?" he suggested, again feeling everyone's eyes - including Brian's this time - on him once more; even Brian didn't know about _this_ surprise. But Gus stubbornly shook his head, and Justin knew he wouldn't give up until he agreed. "Okay. I guess it won't hurt. But be careful going up the steps, and hold onto the railing!" he called out to him as the little boy suddenly turned around and ran headlong toward the backdoor, a boy on a mission as he disappeared inside within seconds.

Brian laughed. "That's my son - doesn't know any other speed when it comes to doing anything except warp drive." Everyone smiled knowingly as Brian addressed his partner. "What is this all about?" he asked.

Justin smiled mysteriously. "You'll see soon enough. I'd give him about three minutes." Brian was extremely curious, but he knew he didn't have to worry if it involved Justin and his son. He was so thankful that the two males in his life were this close to each other, and he cherished Justin all the more for treating his son the way that he did.

Sure enough, just as Justin had predicted, Gus came rushing back out the door soon afterward, holding some sort of rolled up paper in his hand. Smiling proudly, he hurried up to his two mothers and told them a little breathlessly, "This is for you."

Mel and Lindsay exchanged a glance. "A present for us?" Lindsay asked. Gus nodded and shyly smiled as his mother accepted the object and laid it down on top of the table. Slowly untying the simple string fastened around it, she pulled the two edges back to peer at it as both women gasped with astonished pleasure. It was a carefully detailed drawing of their son in a backyard setting - apparently here at Britin - as he sat on the grass, his knees drawn up to his body and his hands wrapped around his lower legs. He was wearing his omnipresent engineer's cap at a casual angle on his head as he smiled in delight at a butterfly that had landed on a bush nearby. In the corner Justin has signed his name, and a small but life-sized handprint - no doubt Gus's - was placed next to it. The drawing was whimsical in nature and depicted Gus's zest for life perfectly.

The two of them peered over at Justin in wonder and appreciation as Justin's face grew warm. "Justin..." Mel began as she glanced back down at the exquisite portrait of their son that Lindsay was holding down on the table.

Gus stared over at his mother. "Do you like it, Mama?" he asked shyly, noticing the astounded look on her face.

Mel stared at the drawing in disbelief; this likeness of their son was just as good as the one from the park. "This...this is beautiful." Her smile widened as she looked at her son and told him, "It's so lifelike. The best present I think I've ever had; at least, after you were born, anyway."

Lindsay had to nod in agreement, still somewhat envious of how much talent this young man possessed for someone who was relatively untrained. "She's right," she had to reluctantly admit. "You have captured Gus so well here. You really have an excellent grasp of light and shadow, especially." She continued to stare at the drawing of their son before deciding, "Mel and I are going to have a disagreement over who gets to keep this after we have it framed." She was only half-kidding. "I know she wanted that other portrait to hang in her office..."

Justin's eyes widened with concern; he hadn't thought about that. "Well, uh...I can draw something else if you..."

Mel shook her head. "No, Justin, don't worry about it," she told the young man softly. "Something like this needs to be enjoyed by both of us - at home." Lindsay nodded gratefully as Mel inhaled a deep breath and let it out before saying, "Thank you. We'll treasure this."

Justin nodded. "You're welcome," he murmured self-consciously. Wanting to change the subject from him to something else, he wracked his brain to come up with another topic, but was spared the need as the doorbell rang again, and once more Gus rushed back to the house to open the front door.

"I'll get it!" he shouted again as everyone laughed.


End file.
